


Nygmobblepot Ficlets

by TheDVirus



Category: Gotham (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Vampire, Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Angst and Feels, Angst and Fluff and Smut, Angst and Humor, Asexuality, Bird/Human Hybrids, Bisexuality, Comfort, Cuddling & Snuggling, Demisexuality, Domestic Fluff, Enemies to Friends, Enemies to Friends to Lovers, Falling In Love, Familiars, Fem!Oswald, Fluff, Fluff and Smut, Friends to Lovers, Friendship, Friendship/Love, Gay Sex, Kissing, Love, Love Confessions, M/M, Nygmobblepot prompts, Post-Coital Cuddling, Prompt Fic, Prompt Fill, Shapeshifting, Tumblr Prompt, Witches, fem!Ed
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-02-13
Updated: 2018-11-12
Packaged: 2019-03-17 22:08:23
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 62
Words: 82,516
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13668279
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheDVirus/pseuds/TheDVirus
Summary: If you fancy a Nygmobblepot ficlet, drop me an ask @TheDeeVirus on Tumblr and tell me what you'd like!The prompt can be as detailed or bare bones as you like. Most of these are oneshots but I can add to certain prompts if someone asks me to :)(Not all chapters are explicit: I have marked those that are NSFW)





	1. Are You Drunk? Part 1

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> anonymous asked: 43; “are you drunk?”

‘Close the door before you embarrass yourself any more’, Oswald said curtly, leaning on his office desk, ‘This is probably a stupid question but are you drunk?’

Ed closed the door and held a hand against it to resteady himself. He turned, smiling at Oswald and shrugged, swaying slightly.

‘Does it matter?’ he asked blithely.

Oswald crossed his arms.

'Why are you drunk?’

'I can get drunk if I want. You’re not my mother’, Ed replied, sitting on a nearby couch, ‘Trust me, she knew a thing or two about getting drunk’.

‘I’m not your mother but I am the owner of this establishment’, Oswald said, ‘You were making quite the scene down there’.  
He was keeping a careful eye on Ed’s physical state. He didn’t relish the idea of cleaning the cream coloured sofa should Ed’s constitution suddenly fail him.

'I was just asking the waitresses some questions’, Ed said, idly making his bowler hat spin around his pointer finger.

‘Specifically about my dating habits’

'Well it’s not like I could ask you personally Mr ‘please make an appointment’’.

'I’m a busy man’.

'Not on the romance front it seems’, Ed taunted, ‘Lots of first bases but no 'home runs’. Tell me: are you striking out or are they?’

Ed flung his hand out and his bowler hat went sailing through the air.  
He missed the nearby hatstand by a country mile and the hat rolled ignominiously away into the corner.  
Ed didn’t seem to notice.

'Like I said’, Oswald sniffed, ignoring Ed’s obvious baiting, ‘I’m too busy to waste time on frivolities. Technically I’m also too busy to deal with you but one of the waitresses told me you said you had a bomb with you’.

Ed held up the back of his hand against his mouth as if divulging a secret.

'A Jägerbomb’, he giggled, ‘It was a riddle’.

Oswald sighed.

'I assume you have a motive for trying to get my attention while under the influence?’ he asked.

'The only reason I’ve had a few drinks is because I don’t want to screw this up’, Ed said, his intoxicated demeanour temporarily overcome by solemnity.

'And you thought some alcohol would make you more loquacious?’

'You make me want things I can’t have’.

Oswald blinked at the declaration.  
Ed returned his stare steadily, his eyes more focused than they had been since Oswald had practically frog marched him up to the office.

'Is this another riddle?’ Oswald asked after a few moments of silence, assuming perhaps that Ed has forgotten the next line.

'No! It’s a fact’.

'What do I make you want?’ Oswald asked, pouring a glass of water from the pitcher that always rested on his desk.  
Ice cubes tinkled in the glass as he awaited Ed’s answer.

‘I want you’, Ed said simply.

There was a sharp tap as Oswald put the pitcher back on the table.  
Ed licked his dry lips as he met Oswald’s eyes.  
He was looking at him warily, brow furrowed as he tried to judge Ed’s sincerity.

Somewhat encouraged by the lack of laughter or derisive comments, Ed continued.

‘I lie awake at night thinking about you and when I fall asleep, I dream about you’.

He stood and walked slowly towards Oswald.  
Like a caring stranger trying to calm an unpredictable stray animal.  
He held out a placating hand and focused on placing one unsteady foot in front of the other even as he tried to declare the feelings he had kept bottled inside for so long.

‘I came here tonight to tell you that I need you. That I love you Oswald’.

His reaching fingertips barely grazed the skin of Oswald’s hand before Oswald yanked his hand away.  
Taking a pointed step back, he eyed Ed coldly, a silent warning not to overreach.

'No you don't’, Oswald said irritably, ‘You’re drunk and you’re talking nonsense. Now, go home before you say anything else you’ll regret. Or end up denying’.

And with that pronouncement, Oswald turned his back on Ed.  
Ed didn’t move, shocked at the lack of emotion in Oswald’s reaction. He had been prepared for disbelief. Even anger. Not outright dismissal.  
He replayed what he had said in his hazy brain and found nothing wrong with it.  
Every word he had said was true.  
Did Oswald just not believe him?

'I know you feel the same’, Ed said desperately, ‘Just tell me. Please!’

He made to reach for Oswald’s shoulder.  
Oswald, with a speed that startled Ed, spun on his heel and grabbed his hand.  
His grip was strong as he squeezed Ed’s fingers warningly. Ed winced as he felt the bones in his hand creak.

‘Don’t’, Oswald said in a low voice and released Ed’s hand as if he was throwing away a piece of trash.

'Fine. Lie to me then. Say you don’t feel anything for me and I’ll go’.

'Oh stop being so childish’, Oswald sighed harshly, rolling his eyes, ‘I know you’re just trying to provoke a reaction with an ultimatum’.

'At least some kind of reaction would show you heard what I said!’ Ed snapped, ‘All I want is for you to be honest with me!’

'That is not fair!’ Oswald retorted, patience with Ed’s dramatics dangerously close to exhaustion, ‘You’re the one who’s not being truthful!’

'What do you mean?!’ Ed yelled, grabbing hold of Oswald’s shoulders, ‘I’m pouring my heart out to you! I‘m telling you I love-’

Oswald threw the glass of water over Ed.  
Ed shivered and gasped at the freezing sensation, the shock of the water breaking through the pleasant warmth of the alcohol in his system to return him to harsh reality.  
Oswald shook Ed’s hands free of his shoulders and put the glass back down, his knuckles white against its clear surface.  
Ed, completely unaware of how to respond and unsure of whether he preferred this reaction to none at all, numbly began to clean his glasses.

'Whatever this is Ed, this isn’t honesty’, Oswald said but then reconsidered, ‘Actually, scratch that, I know exactly what this is. This is plausible deniability’.

'What?’ Ed asked, hating how dull he sounded.

'Who in their right mind would accept that pathetic, drunken confession of love as sincere?!’ Oswald cried, ‘What did you expect?! That I would throw myself into your arms just because you tell me what I want to hear?!’

Oswald laughed bitterly before continuing.

‘You won’t even remember this conversation once you’ve sobered up! If you want someone to massage your 'ego’ for a few hours, go look on a few street corners and leave me in peace’.

Ed gaped dumbly as he noted how flustered Oswald was as he glared at him.  
Despite the oncoming headache further muddying his thought process, Ed got the awful feeling he had severely miscalculated this entire enterprise.  
This was why he didn’t drink.

'I-I didn’t think of it like that’, he admitted, feeling lost.

His eyes fell to the floor: anything to avoid looking at Oswald’s disapproving expression.  
He felt like a child in a headmaster’s office: small and firmly in the wrong.  
Ed sensed Oswald about to make some kind of angry remark but it never came.

Seeing the naked regret in Ed’s face, Oswald settled instead for a resigned, heavy sigh and a pinch of the bridge of his nose.

'I know you didn't’, Oswald said wearily, ‘But I know a thing or two about hiding your feelings behind a bottle. Here’s a riddle for you: do you know why I don’t remember most of those dates you’ve heard about?’

'Because you…drink?’

'To help me ignore the fact that none of those dates were with you’.

Ed’s head snapped back up.  
This time, Oswald’s eyes were averted but Ed could see they were sad and distant as Oswald continued.

‘They never last beyond a single dinner and maybe an occasional, empty kiss’, Oswald admitted, mouth twisted into a painful parody of a smile, ‘If I can even stomach it’.

'You mean you haven’t…?’

Ed trailed off as he tried to make some kind of suggestive gesture with his fingers but Oswald gave a harsh bark of laughter before he could complete it.

'Of course not! What’s the point if I don’t care about them?!’

'For some people that’s not a necet,…nessecy’, Ed took a moment and selected an easier word that his thick tongue could manage, ‘Needed’.

'Well, it is for me’, Oswald said with the slightest hint of regret, ‘It’s why I can’t keep kissing strangers and pretending they’re you. Not when all it does is make me hate myself. Is that what you wanted to hear when you came here tonight? That I spend my nights alone and miserable?’

Ed felt a wave of nausea that had nothing to do with alcohol move through his stomach and mix with the prickling needles of shame crawling up his spine.  
He knew how Oswald felt.  
It was how he felt nearly every night.  
Alone and at odds with himself.  
Longing for someone to hold his hand in the dark.

‘I’m sorry’, Ed whispered, feeling like there was a rock behind his ribs, ‘I don’t know what I was thinking. I don’t think I was. I..I’m sorry. I’ll go’.

Ed turned on his heel and crossed the room as fast as he could.

'Look’.

Ed froze.  
At first he thought he had imagined Oswald’s quiet voice and carefully glanced over his shoulder.  
Oswald was looking at him from under his lashes, cheeks slightly pink as he spoke again.

‘Come see me when you sober up and we can talk about this properly. If you want’.

Oswald shrugged, a clear signal that there was no pressure.  
They could both just walk away and pretend nothing happened.  
But Ed didn’t want to walk away.  
He wanted to make things better.  
His reply was obvious and immediate.

'Maybe we can talk over dinner?’ Ed offered, ‘Tomorrow night?’

Oswald blinked owlishly and despite his intoxicated state, Ed saw a glimmer of hope in Oswald’s eyes.  
He had to pursue it.

'It’ll be my treat and an apology’, he said, ‘For being such an idiot’.

Oswald burst out laughing.  
Ed felt a goofy grin spread across his own face. He made no attempt to stop it.  
It had been so long since he had seen Oswald smile.  
He had smiled all the time when they had lived together.

'Admitting that is a good start’, Oswald conceded, wiping his eyes, ‘Chinese food okay?’

'See you tomorrow night’, Ed said and left before he had a chance to ruin things.

Oswald waited until the office door was fully closed before retrieving Ed’s hat from the corner. He dusted it off and raised it to his face.  
He closed his eyes as he inhaled the familiar scent.

'It’s a date’, he whispered, savouring the warmth rising in his chest.


	2. Are You Drunk? Part 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Anonymous asked: Could you do "I've missed this" and "people are starring" as a part two (the date) of the "are you drunk" one please!! 

‘I’ve missed this’, Oswald remarked as he accepted a spring roll from the plate Ed was offering him.

‘Chinese food?’ Ed asked.

Oswald shook his head. Around them, diners chatted amiably, the restaurant busy but not overtly crowded. Ed had reserved them a table in the corner, away from prying eyes and over sensitive ears.

‘Having someone to eat with’, Oswald said.

‘I suppose you usually eat dinner in the mansion’.

Oswald swallowed and dabbed his mouth distractedly.

‘At the Lounge mostly’, he replied.

‘Why?’

Oswald hesitated for the briefest of moments. In his mind he saw the seemingly vast expanse of the mansion’s dining room. There was a single place setting on the long table and an empty chair facing his, the dark window beyond looking out into nothingness.

‘I’m very busy’, Oswald said simply.

‘Yeah, me too’.

‘Do you still cook?’

‘Not so much’, Ed admitted.

‘But you love cooking’, Oswald said, genuinely surprised.

‘Not…cooking for one’, Ed said then cleared his throat, ‘Do you remember the first time we ate Chinese food together?’

‘In your apartment. You had to help me with the chopsticks because of my shoulder’.

‘How is it by the way?’

‘It healed perfectly’, Oswald said, rotating it for good measure, ‘Your advice about the baby oil really helped’.

‘Good. That’s…good’.

They ate in silence for a while. Neither diner had expected to get this far without some kind of passive aggressive comment or actively aggressive threat. Yet here they were, too on edge to fully relax but strangely enjoying each other’s company.

Oswald finally lowered his chopsticks, too aware of the elephant in the room to ignore it any longer.

‘Ed, if it’s alright’, he said delicately, ‘Can we talk about last night now please?’

Ed’s shoulders sagged slightly as he lowered his own chopsticks.

‘Yeah, sorry about that. Again’.

Oswald nodded in acknowledgement of the apology and selected his words and tone carefully. He didn’t want to show how eager he was to hear the answer. That way if Ed told him it meant nothing, that it had really just been drunken over emotional rambling, it wouldn’t hurt. Oswald prayed it wouldn’t hurt.

‘Did you mean what you said?’ Oswald asked then followed up with a half-hearted joke, ‘If you can even remember’.

Ed’s face remained serious.

‘I remember’, he said, ‘And yes. I meant it’.

Oswald hid his hands beneath the table and clasped them tight. They were shaking.

‘Why now?’ Oswald asked, head titled in a signal of offhanded curiosity. The better to hide his racing heart.

Ed reached into his jacket and Oswald tensed automtically. Ed held up a hand apologetically, realising that any time someone did that in front of Oswald they were usually reaching for a weapon. Ed only withdrew his hand when he saw Oswald settle back into his chair.  
He placed the small, delicate object on the table.

Oswald looked at it.

‘Is that…’

He trailed off, realising he didn’t need to finish the question.   
It was an origami penguin, tattered and creased made out of faded wrapping paper. Paper that Oswald had once used to wrap a present for Ed, incarcerated in Arkham.

‘I took it from your desk when I left the mansion’, Ed said, fiddling with his glasses.

‘Why?’

‘I was going to throw it into the fire at first’, Ed said reflectively, ‘Sort of a ceremonial burning. But I..’

He cleared his throat and shrugged before continuing.

‘I couldn’t. I put it in a drawer and forgot about it until I was cleaning it out a few days ago’.

Oswald reached out a fingertip and carefully stroked the top of the penguin’s head with a sad smile.

‘I wondered where it went’.

‘I honestly didn’t think you would miss it’, Ed said, touched by Oswald’s obvious affection for the little figure.

Oswald picked up one of the thin napkins on the table and began to fold. Within seconds (and without looking), he had made another origami penguin. He placed it beside Ed’s and shook his head dejectedly.

‘They’re never the same’, Oswald sighed, ‘No matter how many I make’.

‘There’s a story in Japan’, Ed said, ‘That if you fold one thousand origami cranes and make a wish it’ll come true’.

‘What do you get for two penguins?’

‘A free meal?’ Ed volunteered and gestured to the dinner.

Both men laughed. They stopped when their eyes met.

‘We’re not the same either’, Oswald said.

‘No we’re not’.

Oswald swallowed hard and finally spat out the question that had been building inside him like acidic venom.

‘Do you want to try to be?’

He couldn’t look at Ed. He couldn’t bear the thought of seeing that look on his face again. The look that had contorted his features that day at the mansion when Oswald had unwittingly confessed his feelings and his part in the murder of the woman Isabella. When Oswald had ruined everything.

‘No’, Ed said, ‘I told you: I want to be more’.

Oswald stared at him, hardly daring to believe it. This had to be a joke. An elaborate plan to make him look like a fool. Ed didn’t mean- he couldn’t mean-!  
He barely heard Ed’s frantic babbling.

‘But if you don’t…if you can’t for-for whatever reason then I underst-‘

Ed felt something grab hold of his tie. He barely had time to realise it was Oswald before he was pulled over the table for a kiss. He was vaguely aware of the sound of a glass smashing and was completely aware that he didn’t care.  
Oswald’s kiss was chaste: a light, warm pressure against his lips. Ed sighed at the soft pressure and smiled at the slight tickle of stubble on Oswald’s upper lip. He gently used his tongue to lick Oswald’s lips and was surprised when they parted, permitting him entry. The kiss was slow and intense, their tongues entwining in Oswald’s hot mouth, exploring and enjoying.  
All too soon, Oswald pulled away, breathless.

Ed saw his own bewildered smile reflected in Oswald’s expression. He laughed giddily and touched Oswald’s blushing cheek. Oswald laid his hand over Ed’s fingers and nuzzled into his palm, eyes downcast bashfully.

‘People are staring’, Ed whispered conspiratorially.

Oswald laughed quietly, leaning his forehead against Ed’s. He couldn’t remember the last time he had felt so happy. 

‘If you like we can go somewhere more private to continue our conversation’, Oswald offered, raising an eyebrow coquettishly, ‘And, maybe…you could cook breakfast?’


	3. You're A Mystery Part 1 (NSFW)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> andersandrew asked: So I propose 4. "You’re a mystery" and 70. "You called me about six different awful names" if you are inspired ^^
> 
> knightinpinkunderwear said:Prompt 64:) “He said you were nice.” (For any character or characters you like) 
> 
> Anonymous said:I have a request, and I might die if this is during sex, but “I feel like I can’t breath.” Nygmobblepot. 
> 
> buntesfuenkchen said:Nygmobblepot : 44 “I still remember the way you taste.” + 10. “Come here.” + 2. “Close the door.”? ( 

Oswald idly stirred the ice cubes in his drink, trying to focus on the show being performed on stage.  
A handsome man, naked but for a pair of black, low cut briefs, spun around on a pole, his tanned flesh glistening in the dancing stage lights.  
The audience of The Foxglove whooped and cheered, clearly invested in the performance. Oswald even noticed some surreptitiously sliding their hands to private places, the rest of the audience too enraptured to pay attention.  
It was disgusting.

Oswald crossed his legs but this was a mistake. The friction caused his arousal to pulse and quiver. He clenched his teeth to silence the gasp that threatened to spill from his lips and carefully resettled into the leather chair. He was sitting in the back corner, the lanterns on each table the only source of illumination in the so called ‘Dark Room’ save for the stage lights. Apart from the performer on stage, there were various Foxglove employees working the tables, walking between them and flirting with the customers. Oswald watched a portly man being led away by a blonde woman wearing a pair of white rabbit ears and a fluffy tail towards an exit covered by red curtains. The exit led upstairs to the private rooms where patrons could ‘sample the goods’ in private and at their leisure.  
It was an expensive service and Oswald was not willing to make use of it if he could not select an adequate partner. But so far, in the two hours he had been sitting in the club, he had been unimpressed by who was on offer.

The Foxglove was supposed to cater to every taste, kink and whim.  
But how was Oswald supposed to know what he wanted? Or who he wanted?  
There was only one person who had ever made him feel-

Oswald shook his head to dispel the melancholy rising in his chest before it could combine with the nagging heat surging through his system.  
Arousal was a sensation he rarely felt and he knew he had never felt it as strongly as he had two hours before, when he had surged awake, his loins burning and bedsheets coated in sweat. He had travelled to The Foxglove almost on instinct even as he despised the necessity of the journey.  
It was unfair how other people could find relief so easily and enjoyably and yet here Oswald was wasting money on drink after drink as he tried desperately to blur his exacting standards enough to just get the job done.  
He was beginning to get the awful feeling that he was destined to return home unfulfilled.  
Then again, how was that different from any other night?  
Lying awake, staring at the dark ceiling of the mansion, the bed seeming cavernous and cold, the blankets a shroud upon him as he lay alone…  
Oswald put the glass down and pushed it away to join its numerous fellows, swallowing hard to ignore his rising depression.  
This was why he didn’t drink shots.

As if on cue, an employee stopped at his table.

‘I got what you want right here my lovely’, he purred, leaning over the table.

Oswald analysed what was on offer. Short brown hair and eyes. Good start. Tall and lean with pale skin. Also good. But, no. Too many piercings, yellowed fingers from cigarettes, accent too jarring to help Oswald pretend he was with-

‘No. You don’t’, Oswald said dismissively.

‘Don’t be like that’, the man said with a laugh, fingers walking towards Oswald’s sleeve, ‘I‘ll give you the best night you’ve ever had’.

The knife stabbed into the tabletop, barely missing the man’s seeking fingers. The man hastily withdrew them, shocked at the speed and strength of the gesture. Oswald placed a fingertip on the hilt of the knife and tapped it irritably.

‘Keep bothering me and this night will be the last you ever have’, he said simply.

‘Sorry! Sorry!’ the man babbled, ‘I only came over here ‘cause that guy said you needed cheering up. Also said you were nice, the lying bas-‘

‘What guy?’

‘Glasses over there’, the man said, jerking a thumb over his shoulder, ‘Ya know I think I know him from somewhere. Is he like a newsreader or something?’

Oswald glared at the familiar figure in the opposite corner who was raising a drink to him in salute.

‘He’s about to be dead meat’, Oswald growled, getting to his feet.

‘Window shopping?’Ed asked, smirking.

‘Stalking has always been one of your least attractive qualities’, Oswald remarked coolly as he settled into a chair at Ed’s table.

‘’Stalking’ implies I’ve been following you around’.

‘How did you know I’d be here?’

‘Because I’m the Riddler and because I know you. You’re a mystery after all. How can I resist?’

‘And your brilliant mind thinks that places like this are my natural habitat’.

‘I also know that look on your face’.

‘What look?’

‘A penguin in heat is such a fascinating contradiction in terms’.

‘You paid the entry fee to get in here just to have that joke at my expense?’

‘Compared to you paying the entry fee to try and buy relief from a perfectly natural sensation you can easily take care of yourself’.

Ed clicked his fingers and an attentive waitress brought them each a drink.  
Oswald accepted his shot grudgingly as Ed cocked an eyebrow at him. He stirred the vibrant green cocktail (complete with umbrella) that he had ordered.  
Oswald hated that Ed knew he couldn’t ‘take care’ of it himself.  
Technically he could but it always left him feeling empty and disgusted as he cleaned his emissions from his fingers afterwards.

‘Why are you really here?’ Oswald pressed.

‘The same reason you are. The same reason you were here exactly…’

Ed glanced at his wrist watch and waited for the hand to pass the appropriate marker.

‘- one year ago. With me’.

‘I don’t recall’, Oswald said emotionlessly, cheeks colouring.

Ed smirked at Oswald’s denial.  
He could tell from the way he was looking away that he did.  
It had been pure chance that he and Oswald had bumped into each other in the establishment a year ago. Ed had decided to indulge his curiosity by paying a visit to Gotham’s more prestigious burlesque to explore the spectrum of experiences on offer.  
Naturally upon encountering each other, he and Oswald had adjourned upstairs to a private room. Both were well aware of the strict rules against physical confrontation in The Foxglove and wished to save the satisfaction of inflicting harm on each other for themselves, not the bouncers.  
But, somehow, things had taken an unexpected turn.  
One that Ed had not found unpleasant.  
It was amusing how Oswald seemed to want to forget the night they had shared and yet Ed could see he was at that very moment reliving the memories in his mind. He hoped they were as vivid for Oswald as they were for him with his photographic memory.   
It was adorable how bashful Oswald could be about sex. That innocence that had survived despite the savagery of Oswald’s nature was like catnip to Ed.

‘It’s intriguing you came back here’, Ed said, ‘It’s almost like a homing instinct. Like when birds return to their breeding ground to spread their feathers and-‘

‘Stop talking’, Oswald said, pressing the heels of his hands into his eyes.

He knocked back his shot, eyes gritted as it burned his throat.  
Ed took advantage of Oswald’s momentary distraction.

‘Did you know that females belonging to some species of penguins pick the same mate every year? Because no one else will do’.

‘Chat up lines have never been your forte. Especially those involving penguin facts. Stick to the riddles’.

‘I forgot you’re not a fan’, Ed replied, ignoring the jab, ‘Your idea of chat up lines consist of yelling, calling me about six different, awful names, throwing a vase at my head and holding a knife to my neck. As mating rituals go, the show you put on last year was rather intense’.

‘That was not a mating ritual. That was attempted murder’.

Oswald froze as he felt a ticklish sensation above his right ear. Reaching up, he realised Ed had tucked the cocktail stick umbrella behind his ear. Seeing Ed’s playful shrug, Oswald left it where it was. Somehow it seemed like it would be a defeat to remove it. A signal that Ed was getting to him.

‘With us it’s getting hard to tell the difference’, Ed said, licking the rim of his empty glass.

Oswald tried to ignore that pink tongue but its languid movements were almost hypnotic.  
And entirely deliberate on Ed’s part.

‘What happened afterwards certainly left its marks’, Ed continued, ‘You remember that. I know you do’.

Ed locked eyes with Oswald, those inscrutable dark eyes gazing at him over the frame of his glasses.  
Oswald felt a bead of sweat slide down his cheek and stirred in his seat. His heartbeat was loud in his ears and his mouth felt dry. He briefly wondered if Ed had drugged him somehow but discounted it in the same second. These effects were all him. All Ed’s effect on him.  
He swallowed, his tenuous hold on self-control slipping away fast as his body betrayed him.

‘I still remember the way you taste’, Oswald confessed, ‘How you smell. How you…’

His breath hitched as Ed placed a hand over his. Oswald felt his fingernails digging into the tablecloth as Ed’s fingertips tickled his goose pimpled flesh.

‘Make you feel?’ Ed prompted, ‘Tell me Oswald: how do you feel?’

‘I feel like I can’t breathe’.

Ed chuckled softly at Oswald’s lustful half hooded expression which was completely at odd with his dry, businesslike tone.

‘I make you breathless, I make you feel alive but every time you experience me a part of you dies. What am I?’ Ed recited.

Oswald did not answer the riddle and for once Ed was glad for it.

‘You have somewhere we can go’.

Oswald was not asking a question.  
Ed nodded.  
Oswald exhaled shakily, head lowering in subconscious surrender.

‘Take me’.

Ed smiled at the double meaning behind Oswald’s words and extended his hand.

‘Close the door and come here’.

It took a great deal of effort for Oswald to walk, not run, over to the bed.  
As he approached, Ed removed his shirt, casting it to the floor to join his jacket. The only modesty remaining to him were his trousers. Even his belt clasp tinkled as he lay back, watching Oswald.

Ed ‘hmmed’ in appreciation as he saw Oswald tear his own clothes off. He realised Oswald must eager for release. He would never have so carelessly discarded such expensive fashion items onto the floor if he had been thinking clearly.

‘The safe word is ‘Origami’, Ed said as Oswald crawled on top of him.

‘I plan to avoid using it for as long as possible’, Oswald said, licking his lips as he surveyed the sight beneath him.

He was grateful that Ed had already removed his glasses. It made it easier to see the hungry pleading in those chocolate brown eyes.  
Oswald gasped as Ed suddenly flipped him onto his back. He winced as Ed’s hands gripped his wrists tight and licked his neck. Oswald keened and his hips bucked in eager response.

‘You may not have a choice’, Ed growled into Oswald’s ear.

Oswald nuzzled into Ed’s neck and fastened his teeth to the pale flesh. Ed hissed as Oswald began to suck hard.   
Oswald felt Ed’s hand grip his neck and squeeze. He smiled and refused to relinquish his hold on Ed’s neck, taking care to control his breathing. Ed was just as eager as he was after all: choking was a kink they both enjoyed but one Ed only resorted to when he wanted maximum buildup. And maximum release.   
After a few seconds and as he felt Ed’s grip start to become too tight, Oswald pulled away roughly, a silvery trail of saliva shining on the deep purple mark blossoming on Ed’s skin.

Pale eyes met their dark counterparts: mirrors of the desirous, delirious hunger gripping their owners.

‘Promise?’ Oswald asked, sharp teeth shining in the gloom as he smiled.


	4. You're A Mystery Part 2 (NSFW)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> riverance asked: Hi :) I would really-really like soulmates with '195. I won’t say it.' and '127. I can’t escape you!' and finally '220. It was all a lie. I lied and kept lying.' <3
> 
> Anonymous said:215 “am i dreaming?” please? 

Oswald snarled as his teeth clamped into Ed’s shoulder and smirked as he felt Ed tighten the collar in response. Ed rammed into him again and Oswald strained to keep his interlocked legs clenched around Ed.

Ed thrusted savagely again and again, pounding into Owsald’s tight entrance, forcing him to relinquish his grip on Ed’s shoulder. He threw his head back and cried out in pleasure as he was impaled on Ed’s cock. The leather around his neck tightened, yanking his head back down into a harsh kiss.

Ed shivered as cool air hit the teethmarks Oswald had left on his flesh and sucked hard on Oswald’s tongue, listening raptly to the shallow, hurried breaths he was making. He shuddered as he deliberately slowed his pace, desperate to savour the warmth of Oswald’s tight passage. He felt Oswald’s nails digging into the flesh of his back and Ed recognised it as the silent plea it was. Oswald was getting close. Ed flinched and tasted blood in his mouth as Oswald nipped his lip. In response, he let go of the lead attached to Oswald’s collar and threw him down, leaning over him without breaking his rhythm.

Oswald grunted as his back hit the blanket and gazed up as Ed loomed over him. He matched his breathing to Ed’s thrusts and began to rock his hips in time with them, impaling himself on Ed’s cock, his entrance swallowing it hungrily.  
Their eyes locked and Oswald couldn’t help but moan as Ed’s fingers clenched on his shoulders, holding him in place.

‘Harder’, Oswald crooned, ‘Harder…please…please’.

Ed, enraptured by Oswald’s siren song, obeyed.  
Oswald’s head rolled back as the delicious friction spurred them both to higher heights of ecstasy. The sound of skin slapping against skin was intoxicating and Ed growled covetously as he realised Oswald was once again wrapping his legs around his waist, drawing him even deeper in.  
He gazed into Oswald’s half hooded eyes, hungrily devouring every minute reaction that could be coaxed from Oswald’s facial expressions.

Oswald looked up at Ed and felt his heart flutter at the naked desire on his face: the way a few strands of his hair were sticking to his forehead and the way he licked his moist, pink lips. His dark eyes were almost black in the dim light, their pupils blown wide as he stared at Oswald hungrily.   
The primal, savage joy in Ed’s face was gorgeous to behold!

Oswald was so fucking beautiful!  
Ed counted each freckle that dotted Oswald’s high cheekbones beneath those pale eyes.They were like molten green glass, burning for him and him alone. Ed ran a hand possessively along his partner’s cheek. He traced it along Oswald’s chin, down his chest pausing for a moment to feel his racing pulse, then even further down.

‘F-fu-fuck!’ Oswald stammered as he felt Ed wrap his hand around his cock.

Ed’s hands were large with long fingers and as they began to pump up and down, Oswald’s head spun at the strength and simultaneous tenderness in his touch. Yes! This was what he needed! What he had craved for so long!

Ed threw his head back, teeth gritted with pleasure.  
Sex had only ever felt this good with Oswald!  
Kristen and Isabella had required delicate handling and careful control but Oswald could take whatever Ed could dish out and even come back hungry for more!  
Ed loved the way Oswald bit him, claiming him in an animalistic display of dominance and he loved how Oswald responded to his own kink. Seeing someone as proud as Oswald in a collar, the lead attached clamped firmly in his fingers was immeasurably intoxicating to Ed.  
He could almost feel the electrical impulses of pleasure shooting up his spine as he listened to Oswald’s adoring gasps and moans beneath him.  
It felt so fucking good to lose control!  
Ed moved his thumb across Oswald’s head in a spiralling pattern and thrilled as Oswald squirmed. Ed felt his fingers grow slick with pre-cum: he loved that Oswald loved this!

‘I. Fucking. Love. You’, Oswald cried in unison with each of Ed’s thrusts, ‘Don’t stop! Oh fuck! Don’t stop!’

Oswald groaned in thwarted agony as Ed slowed his pace, rotating his hips torturously slowly. Oswald’s eyes flashed up at Ed angrily, making Ed sigh blissfully.

‘Say it!’ Ed commanded, leaning in close, ‘Say ‘origami’ and I’ll let you cum’.

‘I-I won’t! I-ah!- won’t say it!

‘Fine’, Ed growled, ‘I’ll just have to make you’.

Ed fastened his lips to one of Oswald’s dusky nipples and sucked hard. The effect was immediate and extreme.

Oswald gave a tuneful cry before desperately babbling the word over and over, his back arching from the bed.

‘Ah! Ah-I’m getting-ah!-close! Close!’ Oswald practically screamed, his fingers curled into claws as they gripped the blanket.

‘Then…’

Ed leant down so his mouth was right beside Oswald’s ear before finishing his sentence. He swallowed. He could feel the tension like a building storm ready to be unleashed at the merest atmospheric change.  
So he provided it.

‘…cum for me’, he whispered and nibbled Oswald’s ear lobe before giving one, final thrust.

The additional stimulus was too much for Oswald.  
He plunged over the precipice, coming undone in Ed’s arms as his back arched. He felt cum hit his stomach and saw it coat Ed’s fingers. He felt his legs spasm again and again but he only focused on drawing Ed closer, desperate to savour every last drop of the delirium that gripped him.

The sight of Oswald cumming caused Ed to relinquish what little control he had left and he rode out his own orgasm, marvelling at how Oswald’s passage clenched around him and seemed to draw him in even deeper. Amidst the waves of bliss that shocked him to his core, one thought thundered loudly in his brain. One fact to always remember.  
Oswald was his and he was Oswald’s. Forever.

‘I love you’, Ed whispered and leant in to kiss Oswald on the cheek.

Only to be shoved away. As Ed fell back, he saw Oswald was getting to his feet unsteadily. He watched, confused as Oswald cleaned himself with the wet wipes sitting on the bedside table. Once he had finished, he tossed them to Ed.

‘Don’t ruin this’, Oswald said over his shoulder emotionlessly.

He began to dress, pointedly ignoring Ed’s presence.

‘Says the man who said it first’, Ed asked, sitting up, ‘Why can’t you just tell the truth?’

‘The truth was I said what I had to say to get what I needed. Compliments are like catnip to you’.

Oswald unbuckled the collar and threw it on the floor as Ed touched his shoulder, wincing as he saw small droplets of blood on his fingers.

‘So that’s it until next year?’ Ed asked, shrugging, ‘364 more days of being alone?’

Oswald halted, hands falling to his sides. He sighed, lowering his head in defeat.

‘It’s not fair’.

‘What?’

‘Why can’t you just let me go?!’ Oswald demanded, spinning on his heel, ‘Why do you always ask questions?!’

‘I’m not stopping you from leaving!’ Ed retorted, ‘And you let the wrong man fuck you if you don’t like questions’.

Oswald gave a wordless snarl of frustration and began to pace, his ungainly gait emphasising his anger.

‘I can’t escape you!’ Oswald laughed bitterly, ‘You want the truth?! Fine! You drive me crazy! I tried to bury my feelings and ignore you: tried to hate you but it was all a lie! I lied and kept lying because it’s all I know how to do!’

He stumbled and moaned as he jarred his leg. Ed hurried to the other side of the bed and helped Oswald sit down. Oswald didn’t resist. He looked small and lost, deflated after his outburst.

‘So stop’, Ed said gently, ‘Just stop’.

‘But-but what if-‘

Ed placed a fingertip on Oswald’s lips. He froze, swallowing hard. Ed’s finger traced its way across Oswald’s smooth lips and they automatically parted. Oswald licked Ed’s fingertip, eyes half hooded and longing even as they glistened.

‘Here’s your answer’, Ed whispered and tenderly kissed Oswald’s forehead.

‘You really meant it’, Oswald whispered, ‘You love me’.

Ed didn’t say anything. He simply held Oswald’s face, his finger tracing the path of the lone tear on his cheek

‘Am I dreaming?’ Oswald breathed.

‘No’, Ed smiled, ‘But if you like, I can prove it to you?’


	5. Let Me Take The Lead

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> buntesfuenkchen asked: Dancing Nygmobblepot ficlet, please!!! 

‘You’re Mayor of Gotham City. You need to know how to dance’, Ed said.

Oswald stumbled slightly, swearing under his breath as it interrupted their rhythm. Ed waited patiently for Oswald to retake his stance and they resumed dancing together. On a table nearby, a record played a slow waltz: the waltz Oswald was expected to perform the opening dance to at that night’s gala.

‘Not if I pass a law excluding the Mayor from participating’, Oswald grumbled.

‘It would take too long to detail all the ways that would not work so would you mind just trusting me on this one?’

‘You know I trust you! I’ve already allowed you to put your hand on my hip’.

‘It was your mistake for grabbing it and putting it there before I could explain the correct positions. I’ve told you to stop looking at your feet’.

Oswald’s head snapped up so quickly he nearly headbutted Ed on the chin.

‘What am I supposed to stare at then? Your waistcoat buttons?!’

‘Just because we’re dancing doesn’t mean we can’t have a conversation. Why not look up at me?’

‘Neck strain?’

Ed rolled his eyes at Oswald’s sarcasm, recognising it as the defence mechanism it was.

‘Nobody’s going to laugh at you Oswald’.

Oswald missed a step but recovered quickly.

‘How do you know?’

‘Because if they do, I’ll remove their vocal cords’, Ed said coolly.

He bent over so Oswald could spin him under his arm despite their height difference. It was good to see Oswald improvising. Especially given that they had been practicing for two solid hours.

‘You always know just what to say’, Oswald smiled, ‘How do you know how to dance anyway?’

‘I think everybody has an instinctive aptitude for it. After all our primal ancestors were familiar with the concept and our natural reproductive method revolves around the idea of rhythm. Also music has been found to play a positive role in attracting a mate so-‘

Oswald’s leg spasmed and he gasped as he tripped over his own feet. Ed grabbed him hastily before he fell. Oswald swore, louder this time and broke away.

‘So then why am I struggling so much?!’ he demanded, ‘If you’re saying anybody can do it, why can’t I?!’

Ed touched Oswald’s shoulder consolingly. Oswald waved a hand, silently apologising for his outburst. Despite his frustration, he was grateful for both Ed’s help and his seemingly bottomless patience.

‘Because you’re letting this’, Ed said, flicking Oswald’s forehead with his fingers, ‘Get in the way of this’.

Oswald raised an eyebrow and rubbed his forehead where it had been flicked as Ed pointed at his heart.

‘Meaning?’

‘First and foremost, dancing is about an emotional response. Feel the music in your bones and your muscles will move accordingly. Now, just relax and let’s try again’.

Oswald inhaled deeply and they resumed. Until a few minutes later when, during a turn, Oswald went one way and Ed went the other.

‘Sorry!’ Oswald groaned, pushing the heels of his hands into his eyes.

‘It’s okay. I think I know what the problem is’.

‘I’m open to suggestions’, Oswald surrendered, opening his arms wide invitingly.

‘Let me take the lead for now’.

Oswald’s arms fell to his side as he deflated at Ed’s proposal.

‘But I’m supposed to-‘

Ed held up a hand and said:-

‘Look, let’s just avoid the entirely predictable conversation about perceived masculinity and deal with actual reality. If you’re leading it puts more pressure on you mentally and physically in what is going to be a social minefield. You’re looking at your feet not just because you’re trying to keep the beat but also because you’re conscious of your damaged leg. If your partner tonight leads, people may comment but at least you’ll get through the dance in one piece. If you like, I’ll even research an appropriate candidate in advance so they’ll know the drill when you approach them’.

Oswald nodded, absorbing Ed’s lengthy yet accurate tactical assessment.

‘Did you get a doctorate in psychiatry when I wasn’t looking?’ Oswald joked weakly.

‘I’ve seen enough psychiatrists to pick up a few tricks. Now, move with me. Trust me’.

Oswald swallowed as Ed placed his hand on his hip and took his hand. His fingers felt delicate and small entwined with Ed’s long digits as they began to move. Oswald prayed his palms wouldn’t get sweaty as he hesitantly voiced an idea that had been brewing for a while.

‘Ed, this-this is going to sound strange’.

‘Now I’m intrigued’.

‘Can I really choose anybody I want as my dance partner at this gala tonight?’

‘Yes’.

‘Even-even if they’re a man?’

‘Of course. And if anyone has a problem with you doing so, I reiterate my position on their vocal cords’.

‘What if…what if the person I’m dancing with is an employee?’

Oswald stared determinedly ahead, right at the buttons on Ed’s waistcoat even as he felt ed staring down at him.

‘Are you asking me-‘

‘No! I mean…yes?’, Oswald interrupted, continuing to dance, desperate to make his request seem off handed and casual, ‘Not that you have to of course! Can’t have people assuming things about you-about the two of us! And I understand if you don’t want to be seen-to dance with someone who-‘

Ed halted their dancing. Oswald’s heart sank at the abrupt stop as the record scratched behind them.

‘Oswald’, Ed said quietly, ‘Just breathe. I need you to listen to me okay?’

Oswald nodded.

‘I would love to dance with you’.

‘Really?’ Oswald asked, eyes wide at Ed’s quiet acceptance.

Ed nodded, smiling down at Oswald kindly.

‘As Chief of Staff it’s my job to make you feel supported in your role as Mayor but as your friend it would be my pleasure. As for people ‘assuming’ anything, believe me, there are worse things than people thinking I’m the significant other of the most powerful man in Gotham’.

‘Thank you Ed’, Oswald said, his heart fluttering warmly.

For the first time since it had been announced, he was actually looking forward to tonight.

Ed’s smile however had gradually grown brittle and he politely cleared his throat.

‘You can pay me back by getting off my toes’, he winced.


	6. Dance With Me?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> buntesfuenkchen asked: Nygmobblepot - 46 “Dance with me.” 

‘Dance with me’.

‘Excuse me?’ Oswald asks, though he knows exactly what Ed has said.

Oswald glances sideways at him. Unlike him, Ed looks totally relaxed as he helps himself to another pastry from the buffet table.  
The room is lit by the light of a spinning disco ball as dozens of people mingle and dance. There are various ice sculptures of animals decorating the ballroom.  
Oswald is proud of how the benefit has turned out and grateful to Ed for getting the word out about the fundraiser for the zoo.

‘Everyone else is having fun’, Ed shrugs, ‘Why shouldn’t we?’

Oswald ponders the question.  
It is technically his party after all. And he’s the mayor. And the most powerful gangster in Gotham who everyone in the room knows would murder anyone who said anything in a heartbeat so they would know to keep their mouths shut and-

‘Well?’ Ed presses.

Oswald doesn’t look at him. He both loves and hates the eagerness in Ed’s voice.

‘I’m not much of a dancer’.

‘If you’re worried about your leg, I can support you. I won’t let you fall’.

Oswald gives a humourless laugh.   
Typical Ed. Always trying to help.

‘It’s kind of…’ Oswald begins but makes the mistake of looking at Ed.

He’s holding his hand out expectantly.

‘It’s not the sort of thing friends do’, Oswald concludes lamely, a crawling sensation of shame creeping up his spine.

‘It’s not?’ Ed asks, genuine confusion on his face before it is obliterated by sudden understanding, ‘Oh, because they would think-Oh! Right. Sorry. I wasn’t thinking’.

Ed retracts his hand and Oswald is reminded of a flower wilting.  
Oswald can’t stand to see it.  
He grabs Ed’s hand and begins to drag him towards the dancefloor.

‘Hey! We don’t have to if you don’t want to!’ Ed protests, looking around self consciously, ‘What will people think?’

They reach the very centre of the floor. Some people spare them a glance but not many. Everyone is too busy having fun.  
Oswald doesn’t care anymore if they’re looking or not.  
It’s his night.  
Their night.

‘They’ll think what I tell them to’, Oswald smirks confidently, ‘I am a politician after all’.

Ed’s nervousness instantly vanishes and he twirls Oswald under his arm.  
Oswald gasps, thinking he’s about to fall.   
Only for Ed to catch him easily.  
As he straightens, Oswald notices how Ed’s glasses catch the light.  
Have his eyes always shone like that?

‘Try and keep up’, Ed challenges and Oswald’s heart skips a beat.


	7. Sing To Me

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> buntesfuenkchen asked: 69. “I know this song.” + 60. “Sing to me.” 

‘I know this song’, Oswald comments appreciatively, fingers tapping on the table.

Ed knows the song too.  
Amy Winehouse. ‘Wake Up Alone’.  
Ed knows it’s one of Oswald’s favourites. He didn’t used to care for it but the memories the song is causing to surface in his brain (and the sensations in his body) are far from unpleasant.  
It used to be Ed would brush the feelings off as a side effect of the pills he used to take but not anymore.   
He doesn’t have to.

Not now that he has the real thing to enjoy.

‘Sing to me’.

Oswald raises an eyebrow as he hears Ed’s words. He knows instinctively it’s not a question. It’s a command.

Oswald glances around self consciously but his eyes are instantly drawn back to Ed’s hand moving to rest over his.

‘Nobody’s looking or listening’, Ed says quietly, ‘It’s just us. You and me’.

‘Always’, Oswald sighs as Ed reaches up and runs a hand through his hair.   
He melts into the sensation, his wariness swiftly fading, overpowered by desire.

Ed’s right.  
Nobody else in the Lounge is paying attention to them. They’re too busy making their own fun and Oswald has ensured his and Ed’s private booth is far away from prying eyes.

‘I love it when my birdy sings’, Ed teases, ‘He gets a treat if he does’.

Oswald licks his dry lips, painting them a glistening pink and begins to sing along with the music.

‘He’s fierce in my dreams, seizing my guts  
He floats me with dread’.

Ed moves closer to Oswald, deliberately invading his space. He smirks as he sees Oswald’s lip curl as he realises Ed is trying to throw him off.   
Oswald decides two can play this game.

‘Soaked in soul, he swims in my eyes by the bed’, Oswald sings, running a lean finger down Ed’s cheek and tickling his chin.

Ed grabs hold of the offending finger and latches on to it with his teeth, sucking hard. Oswald’s breath hitches and he can’t suppress a longing whimper. He decides the best form of defence is attack.

Ed gasps as Oswald suddenly grabs hold of his crotch beneath the table. Oswald gets onto his knees on the booth seat and crawls towards Ed.

‘Pour myself over him’, Oswald growls as he begins to straddle Ed, looking down at him with half hooded, glittering, pale eyes.  
Ed leans back to get a better view, swallowing hard as he realises Oswald is just as hard as he is.

‘Moon spilling in’, Oswald sings, tilting his head back as if in the grip of ecstasy.

Ed watches a bead of sweat trace its way down a blue vein on Oswald’s pale neck and his hips buck automatically beneath Oswald, jolting him forward.  
Oswald recovers well, catching himself on Ed’s shoulders.  
He leans in close and Ed can feel the strength in Oswald’s fingers gripping his shoulders like a bird of prey.  
Ed feels like he’s going to drown in those sea green eyes as they gaze deep into his.   
He loves this.   
Loves being in Oswald’s thrall.

‘And I wake up-’ Oswald whispers, his warm breath ghosting over Ed’s flushed cheek.

Oswald doesn’t get to finish before Ed yanks him down into a fierce, hungry kiss.  
He’s ready for a different kind of music.


	8. You Make Me Happy

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> vampirebillionaire asked: 92, "you make me happy" for nygmobblepot?

‘I’ve been thinking’.

‘Nothing unusual in that’, Oswald jokes but his smile fades when he sees Ed’s downcast expression, ‘Sorry. What have you been thinking about?’

‘Things are going really well aren’t they?’ Ed muses, looking out of the limo window.  
Streetlights flash by like Summer lightning, the golden light catching on Ed’s glasses like fireflies.

‘Is-is that a bad thing?’ Oswald asks, confused.

‘No. It’s wonderful’, Ed replies, unsmiling.

Oswald anxiously drums his fingers on his leg.  
If this is some kind of riddle, he’s not getting it.

They stop at a red light and the back of the car is lit in a crimson hue.  
Oswald can’t see Ed’s face, only his outline.

Thankfully Ed begins to speak again.

‘You make me happy Oswald’, he says, ‘Happier than I’ve ever been’. 

‘I feel that way too’, Oswald says, heart beating against his ribs.

‘But it terrifies me’. 

‘Terrifies you?’ 

‘Bad things happen to people who make me happy’, Ed says in a shaky voice.

The lights turn to green and Ed’s face is illuminated as the car moves off again.  
He looks pale, brow creased and jaw tight.   
The confines of the car won’t allow for an embrace but Oswald feels the sudden urge to touch Ed.  
To tell him everything will be alright.  
That he’s not going anywhere.

‘I’ll take the risk’, Oswald says simply, laying a hand on Ed’s leg.

Ed takes a deep breath and squeezes Oswald’s hand as if he will never let go.


	9. I'm Never Letting You Go

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> buntesfuenkchen asked: Nygmobblepot - 8 - "I'm never letting you go"! Thank you!

‘-So in conclusion, I’ve won, I have you and I am never letting you go’.

Ed smirks as he finishes his prepared speech. Oswald is staring at him from within an ornamental (yet secure) birdcage.  
Ed crosses his arms in satisfaction, awaiting the inevitable raging and cursing from his opponent.  
It’s taken weeks to trap Oswald but now here he is.  
A bird in a cage.

‘Is this the part where I look intimidated?’ Oswald asks, leaning against the bars.

Ed blinks, brow wrinkling.

‘You seem disappointed’, Oswald observes, looking at his nails.

‘I was expecting more pleading’, Ed says, ‘Not resignation or you acting like-like you’re not impressed and… It figures you’d try to ruin this for me’.

‘Oh, I’m not resigned to anything. I’ll escape eventually. You and I both know it. In the meantime, I’m choosing to take-’

Oswald pauses and gestures to the birdcage around him.

‘- whatever this is as a compliment’.

‘It’s a birdcage’, Ed grouses, ‘Not a compliment!’

He turns his back and looks back over his shoulder.  
Just like he’s practiced: carefully cultivated indifference.

‘Enjoy the view’, he says and begins to walk away.

‘Is that what you plan on doing?’

Ed stops in his tracks.  
He knows Oswald is trying to rile him. Knows he shouldn’t respond.  
But-but how can Oswald still be mocking him?!  
He’s in a cage!  
At Ed’s mercy!

Ed growls and turns. He sees Oswald pointing at the numerous CCTV cameras set up facing the birdcage.

Oswald laughs and Ed knows on some strange level, he’s just lost a point on an invisible scoreboard.

‘You expecting some kind of show Ed?’ Oswald asks, dropping his voice to a sultry purr, ‘I can give you one if you ask. A bird in a cage can learn all kinds of tricks’.

‘Like ‘play dead?!’’ Ed snaps, cheeks burning.

‘Not very good at that trick’, Oswald grins, ‘Surprised you’re not helping me practice if you hate me so much’.

‘N-no because-because I want you alive so I can see you humiliated! I hate your guts!’

‘Hate takes a lot of energy’, Oswald observes philosophically, ‘A lot of attention’. 

Oswald grips hold of the bars and stares hard at Ed. Ed meets his eyes, recognising the challenge in the act.  
He fancies he senses a grudging respect in Oswald’s demeanour before it’s swallowed once more by smug relish.

‘You can’t take your eyes off me’, Oswald says quietly, ‘Remind me Ed: why shouldn’t I be flattered?’

Ed doesn’t walk away.  
He walks so close to the bars that Oswald could grab him if he wanted.  
Ed half wishes he would. Just so he would know that this imprisonment has inconvenienced Oswald in some way!  
That it matters to him that Ed has outwitted him!

‘Because the only way you’re getting out of here is over my cold, dead, body’, Ed growls.

Ed gasps as he suddenly feels Oswald’s cold fingertips trace against his cheek. The softness of the gesture makes the hair on the back of his neck stand up.

‘Promises, promises’, Oswald smiles,

Ed storms out without a backward glance,  
Oswald watches him go like a predator at the zoo.  
Patient.  
Watchful.  
Hungry.


	10. What Happens If I Do This?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Anonymous asked:Could you please combine "What happens if I do this" and "people are staring" please! I've loved reading these
> 
> ***
> 
>  
> 
> Ed gives Oswald his first trick umbrella!

‘Carbon fiber shaft (stronger and lighter than steel and aluminium), moulded ivory handle (for comfort and durability) and finally, waterproof. Just like a good umbrella should be’.

Ed smiled as he finished his exposition. He was aglow with the silent praise in Oswald’s widened eyes as he lifted the umbrella out of the box Ed had brought it in. It made all the failed prototypes and long nights fretting over the final product worth it.

Oswald turned the umbrella in his fingers, marvelling at the smoothness of the handle carved into the shape of a penguin’s head. The material was black but had been artistically treated with what appeared to be silver dust. When it caught the light, it glimmered like a night sky.

‘It’s beautiful Ed’, Oswald said, marvelling at the gift.

He swallowed hard at Ed’s joyful expression. Ed always went above and beyond for his birthday but this was exceptional. He didn’t deserve it but he couldn’t bring himself to reject the umbrella. He could tell from Ed’s bandaged hands that it had truly been a labour of love. Ed had literally bled for it.  
Little wonder he had asked Oswald to open it in the corner, away from the partygoers infesting the Iceberg Lounge. Oswald smiled fondly as he reflected on how Ed deserved to have his moment: he deserved to have Oswald’s full attention. Besides he was the only guest Oswald cared about. He had only invited most of the guests for diplomatic or manipulative reasons.

‘Turn the handle’, Ed said gleefully.

Oswald obeyed Ed’s instructions. The handle became unscrewed and the bird’s head revealed it’s true purpose as a knife handle. Oswald recognised the knife immediately. He had first seen it years ago in Ed’s apartment. And first used it on a man called Leonard.

‘Our knife’, Oswald identified, carefully returning it to its sheathe.

Ed thought of himself as a logician. A scientist. Even a mad genius.  
But Oswald knew he was truly an artist at heart.

‘You know what the best part is?’

Oswald smiled as Ed didn’t wait for an answer.

‘This is only the most basic design!’ Ed cried clapping his hands excitedly, ‘I have so many blueprints drawn up. I can’t wait to show you!’

‘Saving them for my future birthdays?’

‘And maybe a Christmas or two’, Ed winked.

Oswald held up the umbrella, testing the weight. Although it felt sturdy, it barely weighed anything at all. He avoided opening it out of superstition but noted a white button just above the handle. He could tell from its positioning it wasn’t the catch used to collapse the umbrella when it was open.

‘What happens if I press this button?’ Oswald asked, finger lingering over it.

He could tell from Ed’s grin that what was coming next would be both brilliant and dangerous. Just the kind of combination to get Ed excited.

‘I find the best way to find out what a big forbidden looking button does…’

Ed moved behind Oswald and took hold of his arms, manoeuvring him so he was holding the umbrella at arm’s length. Oswald leant back into Ed’s chest, inhaling his scent and enjoying the warmth of the pseudo embrace.

‘… is to press it’, Ed finished and moved his thumb over Oswald’s.

They pressed the button together. The slight movement triggered a hidden spring, causing a sharp spike to shoot out from the other end of the umbrella.

Oswald couldn’t supress a wordless noise of awe as the blade caught the light, a rainbow glinting along the sharpened length.

‘It’s diamond edged’, Ed analysed, ‘I thought you’d appreciate a touch of luxury’.

‘Glamorous’, Oswald laughed, ‘And what happens if I do this?’

‘I’m going to take a step back for starters’, Ed said, a touch of caution in his voice as he moved back.

Oswald pressed the button again, careful not to point the umbrella at any people.  
The blade split in half and began to spin swiftly. Oswald was reminded of a helicopter rotor. For the briefest of moments he wondered if Ed, ever the over achiever had impossibly actually built one into the umbrella for the purposes of flight. He discounted the idea in a second as his common sense informed him that as ambitious as Ed was, there were certain laws of the universe he was powerless to outthink.  
In the next second however, Oswald realised the intentions behind the spinning blade. Selecting a nearby ice sculpture in the shape of an angel, he slowly brought the blade edge to bear.  
It sliced through the ice effortlessly and Oswald deactivated the button.  
Oswald gave the ice sculpture a poke with the now static blade and a large section of wing fell to the ground with an audible clunk. Oswald licked his lips as his imagination drew comparisons between the damage inflicted to the ice sculpture and the potential damage it could do to a human body.

‘Do you like it?’

Ed barely got the question out before Oswald enveloped him in a hug, taking care that the now retracted blade of the umbrella was pointing at the floor.

‘I’ll take that as a ‘yes’’, Ed laughed, then lowered his voice, ‘I should mention that people are staring’.

Oswald gave a low laugh. The pitch of it and the way Oswald regarded him made Ed’s cheeks flush.

‘They just know perfection when they see it’, Oswald said lightly.

‘It-it was nothing really’, Ed said, adjusting his tie, recognising the hungry look in Oswald’s eyes, ‘It’s just a birthday present’.

Lifting the umbrella, Oswald ran a finger along the sharp end and winced as he cut his fingertip.  
He looked at it disinterestedly then held it up to Ed.  
Ed, his arousal overpowering his awareness of the nervous stares of the party goers took Oswald’s hand and kissed the cut before beginning to suck it gently, tongue lapping at the budding blood like a cat. He heard Oswald exhale shakily and felt his own cock pulse, hard and hot in his briefs.

‘You know I was talking about you’, Oswald purred, eyes flicking suggestively towards the stairs and the privacy of his office.

He was ready to thank Ed properly.


	11. Why Are You Helping Me?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> @buntesfuenkchen asked: Sorry, I make so many asks, but I just love your fics! ❤️ 

‘You’re lucky. Looks like the bullet’s gone right through’, Ed assessed.

‘Yay’, came Penguin’s hoarse reply.

Ed removed some material that had become stuck in Penguin’s bullet wound and sniffed. There was a faint smell from the cut and red streak like lines on the pale flesh of Penguin’s shoulder leading away from the wound.  
All things considered, Penguin was in better condition than Ed had expected when he had rescued him from the woods.  
He was sitting on Ed’s bed, shirt open and pulled down so as to let Ed treat his wounds and the bloodied waistcoat he had been wearing lay on the floor where Ed had discarded it a few moments earlier.

‘Some signs of infection’, Ed commented clinically, ‘But your sense of humour’s still intact. That’s a good sign’.

He got up and washed his hands in warm soapy water before meticulously drying them.

‘Can’t you just pour some alcohol on it or something?’ Penguin asked, his impatience with the situation obvious.

Ed walked back to the bed, first aid kit under his arm and a basin in his hands.

‘Pouring alcohol on a bullet wound can actually damage wound tissue and slow healing’, Ed replied automatically, ‘I don’t subscribe to frontier medicine. Now hold still. This may sting’.

Penguin obeyed but watched with nervous eyes as Ed dabbed a cloth in the clear liquid in the basin.

‘What is that?’

‘Just a saline solution for your skin’, Ed said gently, touching the cloth to demonstrate how harmless the liquid was.

Penguin’s shoulders slumped as he exhaled shakily.

‘No need to be nervous’, Ed said, dabbing at the skin around the wound, ‘Isn’t it obvious I’m not going to hurt you?’

Ed took Penguin’s silence as an acceptance.  
Penguin did not flinch once as Ed cleaned and disinfected the wound, only speaking once he saw Ed preparing some gauze.

‘Why are you helping me?’

‘You could have died out there’, Ed replied, slightly confused by Penguin’s question.  
If someone was in trouble, weren’t you supposed to help them?  
Ed’s ulterior motive in searching for a mentor aside, he reflected on what kind of life the Penguin must have led for him to expect Ed to just leave him to die alone in the woods.

‘People die every day’, Penguin said bitterly, ‘Better people than me’.

‘Done’, Ed said, choosing not to comment on the sadness in Penguin’s tone.  
He went back to the sink and washed his hands again as Penguin gingerly touched the clean dressing.

‘No stitches?’ he asked.

‘I want to keep an eye on the wound for a while before suturing’, Ed explained, drying his hands again.

‘A while?’

Ed turned and saw Penguin wipe his forehead with the back of his hand. He noted the clammy, glistening sweat on Penguin’s back and his half hooded, feverish eyes.

‘You’re trembling’, Ed observed, reaching for a blanket draped over his couch.  
Penguin accepted it without complaint and pulled it tight around himself.

‘It’s cold and sometimes I feel like I can’t breathe’.

‘That’s to be expected. Frankly, I’m amazed you haven’t gone into shock yet’.

Ed reached for Penguin only for the crime boss’ eyes to snap open.

‘Don’t touch me!’ Penguin snapped, slapping at Ed’s hand.

Ed hastily withdrew his fingers and held up his hands in a placating gesture.

‘I need to remove your clothes to check for other injuries’, he said with as much sensitivity as he could muster despite his impatience with Penguin’s stubbornness, ‘And no offense, but you’re going to need a sponge bath’.

‘Over my dead body’, Penguin glared.

‘Okay’, Ed shrugged, ‘I can wait’.

Ed’s words gave Penguin pause and Ed saw him blink hard as if trying to focus.

‘Are you a doctor?’ Penguin asked, eyes narrowed searchingly.

‘No. A forensic scientist’, Ed smiled wickedly.

It was the wrong move to make.

‘Get out of my way!’ Penguin yelled and leapt to his feet.

Only to cry out in sudden pain and crumple onto the floor. Ed moved forwards hastily and helped Penguin sit back on the bed. He could feel Penguin shaking through the blanket and saw a bead of seat roll down from under the black hair plastered to his forehead.  
Penguin’s left leg was spasming badly and his hand was akin to a claw as his fingers clasped his knee.

‘I’m not going anywhere and neither are you’, Ed said firmly, ‘Let me see that leg’.

‘Don’t!’ Penguin pleaded shakily.

Ed softened at the fear in Penguin’s voice.

‘Let me see’, he said, carefully placing a hand over Penguin’s.

It was like ice beneath his fingers.  
Penguin’s eyes widened and Ed met them as Penguin searched his face for any ulterior motive.  
Ed was reminded of a stray injured animal, desperate to trust but afraid to.  
The thought made him smile fondly.

This was the right move to make.

‘If you tell anyone, I’ll kill you’, Penguin whispered sullenly, beginning to remove his trousers.

‘Noted’, Ed said solemnly, allowing the threat to permit Penguin to retain the remains of his damaged dignity.

Ed helped Penguin expose his leg, allowing Penguin to use the blanket to cover himself above the knee.  
Ed looked at the damaged leg.  
The knee was swollen and was a veritable rainbow of bruises with thick spider web like blue veins. Ed could see a few bumps here and there that suggested badly reset bone. Beneath the malformed joint, the lower leg and swollen ankle were also inflamed. Penguin’s foot also rested at an odd angle. Ed remembered his grandmother had used to call it ‘pigeon toed’.

‘When did this happen?’ Ed asked.

Penguin was picking at a stray thread on Ed’s bedspread but Ed could see the discomfort on his face.  
Not pain.  
But embarrassment.

‘A long time ago’, Penguin said but then added, with a tone of surprise, ‘You don’t seem…bothered by it’.

‘Compared to what I see daily at the office, this is nothing’, Ed answered truthfully, examining the leg with fascination.   
Such extraordinary colours.

‘Really?’ Penguin asked.

Ed was intrigued at the earnestness in Penguin’s voice.  
It was almost like a curious child’s.

‘When you got so defensive I assumed you had webbed feet or something’, Ed joked gently, keen to capitalise on this more conversational Penguin, ‘It would be fitting for someone calling themselves ‘Penguin’. To be honest I’m a little disappointed’.

Penguin smiled before he could stop himself but it vanished quickly.  
He seemed almost abashed that Ed had seen it.

‘Does it hurt?’ Ed asked delicately.

Penguin didn’t answer. Just closed his eyes and exhaled deeply.

‘That’s okay. You don’t have to admit it’, Ed said reassuringly, ‘It’s obvious it’s healed badly. The damage to the knee has affected your gait and your ankle’s under serious strain because it’s struggling to compensate. Why not get it fixed?’

‘Need…to….remember’.

The hesitant words, loaded with effort caught Ed’s attention and he looked up just in time to see Penguin fall sideways, insensate, onto his bed.  
Ed raised Penguin’s legs onto the bed so the mob boss lay prone, snoring heavily.  
Ed reached down and moved some stray strands of hair from Penguin’s eyes. There was wetness beneath his long lashes.

‘Oh boy’, Ed said, reaching for the scissors, ready to commence the clinical removal of Oswald’s remaining clothes.


	12. You Still Don't Think I Love You?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> nygmobbleblog asked: I'm so torn between #27: "Kiss me" and #70: "After everything we've been through, you still don't think that I love you?" If you could mix them together, that would be awesome! If not, then just #27. Your work is amazing, I love it! Thank you!! 

‘After everything we’ve been through, you still don’t think that I love you?!’ Ed demands, ‘Why would I tell you if I didn’t meant it?’

‘I don’t know! Why would you?!’ Oswald snaps, eyes glistening, ‘Why would anybody love-’

Oswald’s jaw snaps shut.  
Ed is staring at him wide eyed: shocked at the outburst but attentive, waiting for Oswald to continue.  
Oswald gives a wordless snarl and turns away.

A cold breeze blows between them, throwing rain into their faces from the surface of the water. The docks are grey thanks to the chilly mist suffusing the area making the distant buildings akin to ghosts emerging from the haze.

Ed tries to think of something to say.  
When he had invited Oswald here for a talk, he hadn’t known what he intended to say either.  
He had certainly not anticipated blurting out his true feelings in a desperate attempt to prevent him from leaving.  
Neither had Oswald and Ed’s attempts to explain himself have only made things more awkward.  
More painful.  
The locale certainly hasn’t helped.

Oswald’s quiet voice interrupts Ed’s mental self flagellation.

‘You said it yourself: Love is a weakness. I gave into it once and all it did was destroy our friendship. I wanted to keep you so badly I…I tore everything apart. I ruined us’.

Ed sees Oswald’s hand stray to his side subconsciously. In his mind’s eye, Ed can see the blood from the gunshot blossoming over Oswald’s clothes.   
It had been raining that day too.  
Ed remembers being angry about what Oswald did.   
Being betrayed, hurt, sad.  
But strangely he doesn’t remember hating him.

‘That doesn’t mean there’s nothing left to save’, Ed says.

Oswald looks pensive as he stares out over the water.  
The rain grows heavier and Oswald opens his umbrella.  
He offers it to Ed who takes it.  
The two of them stand side by side in silence. A ship’s horn sounds in the distance and Oswald shivers from the cold.  
They can both hear the unspoken question hanging between them: ‘What now?’

So, Ed makes the only move that makes sense to him.

‘Kiss me’.

Oswald’s head turns and Ed sees the shock on his face.  
And the faintest glimmer of hope in his eyes.

‘I was wrong about love being a weakness’, Ed continues, ‘But I’m not wrong about how I feel’.

‘You’re never wrong! You’re the Riddler!’

‘I’m just not very good at admitting it’, Ed smiles gently, ‘You loved me once’.

‘It was a mistake’.

‘Not telling me was the mistake. Are you going to make the same mistake again?’

‘This could be a trick. Some kind of cruel joke’, Oswald muses bitterly, ‘After everything we’ve done to each other, how do I know you’re telling the truth?’

‘Is that why you’re angry with me? You think I’m lying?’

‘I’m desperately hoping you’re not. If you are, just tell me so we can go back to hating each other will you?’

Ed places a hand on Oswald’s shoulder. He feels him go rigid at his touch. Like a stray animal expecting a kick.  
He squeezes reassuringly.

‘Kiss me and I’ll prove it to you’.

Oswald shifts uncomfortably from one foot to the other. Ed notes his cheeks colouring and knows it has nothing to do with the temperature.

‘You…really want to kiss me?’ he asks.

‘You’ve never been kissed?’ 

Oswald shakes his head.  
Ed is slightly surprised but also touched by Oswald’s honesty.

‘Do you want to be?’ Ed offers.

Oswald doesn’t reply.  
He turns to face Ed, closes his eyes and tilts his head up. 

‘Convince me’, he whispers.

Ed is happy to oblige.


	13. Just Breathe Okay?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> marvelousouatwho asked: I don't know if you received the anon request but in case, Nygmobblepot with #82 "Just breathe, okay?" and #94 "I won't lose you too"
> 
>  
> 
> ***
> 
> What if Ed jumped into the water after Oswald?

‘Just breathe okay?!’ Ed pleads.

Oswald lies beneath him, unconscious. His lips are pallid and water drips from his mouth. His clothes are sodden, with blood and frigid dock water.

Ed tries to ignore the chill stabbing through his own bones and the water leaking from his clothes, continuing the chest compressions.  
He is using his knee to hold his rolled up coat over Oswald’s stomach.  
He smells the metallic odour of blood mixing with seawater.

Ed’s gun still lies where he dropped it before jumping in after Oswald.  
He can still hear the shot ringing in his ears, battling with his mental countdown as he presses down on Oswald’s chest.

He looks upwards to the sky, trying to focus and rainwater drips onto his glasses like clear venom.  
His fingers are shivering as he begins again and he fights a compulsive sob.

It feels like he’s battling against the pull of the freezing water again as it tries to pull Oswald down into the depths.  
The depths Ed had pushed him into.  
That Oswald deserves to rot in.  
And yet, Ed is trying to save him.

It doesn’t make any sense!  
Maybe Ed really is crazy.  
Oswald would understand.  
Ed knows he would.

Ed is babbling to himself now, half formed meaningless words of comfort.  
To compensate for the lack of reply from Oswald.  
In a final act of desperation, he fastens his lips to Oswald.  
He flinches at how cold they feel as he breathes in, willing his warmth to fill Oswald’s lungs and coax him back from the brink.  
The brink Ed has pushed him over.

He is pounding on Oswald’s chest now.  
Desperation and helpless anger focused into a violent yet productive, cathartic outlet.

It works.

Oswald gasps and spasms, eyes wide and bloodshot.  
He groans and instinctively tries to roll onto his side.  
Ed grabs him and holds him still, now fastening a hand over the fresh stomach wound as he begins to lift Oswald into a sitting position.

Oswald hand clenches over Ed’s. Ed knows the warmth he feels is from the blood dribbling through his fingers.

‘I’m…so…sorry’, Oswald breathes in a broken voice, ‘You-you should’ve let-let me go…’

‘Shut up!’ Ed growls, ‘Lie still!’

‘I-I meant…what I said’, Oswald gasps, eyes unfocused and head lolling back, ‘I…love you Ed’.

Ed makes a noise of rage and utter relief: it is a low moan like that of a wounded animal. He grits his teeth so hard he thinks they will crack.

‘I won’t lose you too’, Ed weeps, cradling Oswald closer, ‘I can’t!’


	14. Trust Me, You were Heard

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> buntesfuenkchen asked: During a party in the Iceberg Lounge Oswald gets in boiling rage - Ed tries to bring his wild penguin down. 29. Trust me, you were heard. 30. I can hear crying (maybe 'yelling' instead of 'crying?) through the door. 69. You broke a couple glasses. 87. Of course it hurts. (Maybe Oswald hurt himself at raging?)

‘Are you alright?’

Oswald raised his head from where it had been resting on his folded arms as Ed entered the Lounge’s office.

‘What are you doing here?’ Oswald asked.

‘Everyone else out there was too scared to come check on you’, Ed said evenly, ‘Can’t imagine why’.

‘You saw what happened out there?’

‘No. I was in the bathroom but trust me you were heard. Besides, that man’s face was a suitable visual aid’.

‘I can hear crying through the door’. 

‘Yes, a couple of the customers are a bit shaken. Don’t worry, your staff are already offering them ‘compensation’’.

Oswald nodded. A few free drinks and hopefully his patrons would forget all about his ‘outburst’. He had realised early on in the nightclub business that offering free alcohol was an acceptable balm for a myriad range of grievances. People could not logically be upset by something they would barely remember the next morning.

‘Good. That’s…good’.

‘Usually you’re more subtle than this Oswald’, Ed commented, folding his arms, ‘What exactly did that man say to you?’

Oswald felt the anger that had temporarily consumed him flare up again as he remembered.   
He knew he should have shrugged it off: that the man had simply been making an off colour, ill judged joke about Arkham inmates and the supposed non-consensual erotic ‘activities’ associated with a maximum security prison. It hadn’t even been meant for him: the man had been talking to his friends as Oswald had passed.  
But then the man had name dropped the Riddler in the punchline.  
The next thing Oswald had known, he had been on top of the man, beating him to within an inch of his life. He had maintained just enough presence of mind not to kill him and stagger away to his office, leaving his victim gasping and bloodied on the floor.

‘Nothing important’, Oswald deadpanned, determinedly swallowing the fury down like bad tasting medicine.

Ed looked skeptical. Oswald didn’t blame him.

‘Nothing important? You nearly ripped the man’s nose off. By the way, you have something…’

Oswald glanced at the small mirror on his desk and checked his face as Ed had indicated. His lips was covered in dried blood that wasn’t his. He vaguely recalled latching on to something fleshy and pulling while the man had screamed beneath him.

‘Did you notice any other damage on your way in here?’ Oswald asked, taking out his pocket square and wiping his mouth.

‘You broke a couple glasses but the debris was being cleaned up. I assume you lunged for him across a table?’

Oswald shrugged. His leg was certainly hurting more than usual so Ed’s supposition was most likely accurate. He tried to clasp his hands together but winced. Looking down at his fingers, he could see these were also caked in cracked dried blood around the swollen knuckles. His hand was shaking and throbbed as he flexed his fingers. His left hand was untouched. He thought this might have been clasped around the man’s throat while his right had done all the hard work but he couldn’t remember.

‘My hand hurts’.

Ed pulled a chair around to Oswald’s side of the desk and sat down.

‘Of course it hurts’, he said, ‘That’s what happens when you hold a man down and knock his teeth out. I saved them if you want them?’

Oswald shook his head as Ed patted his jacket pocket. He knew Ed favoured the collection of trophies but there was nothing worth remembering from this sordid little fracas. If Oswald had kept his temper in check, he could have drawn out the man’s misery for weeks. Aged it like a fine wine. Instead all he had done was show he had a raw nerve, exposed and vulnerable. He just hoped the resultant reaction to someone touching it would dissuade anyone who had considered exploiting it.

‘Let me see’, Ed said gently, holding out his hand.

Oswald obeyed and watched as Ed carefully massaged his hand, checking for any damaged bones while also soothing the pain. He blinked hard as he felt tears beginning to build in his eyes. 

‘Good news. No broken skin so no tetanus shot’, Ed said, finishing his examination.

As he made to let go of Oswald’s hand, Oswald didn’t let go.

‘I’m sorry about this Ed’, he said in a tight voice.

‘Did he deserve it?’

Oswald nodded. The truth didn’t help dispel the embarrassment he felt at exploding in such a public manner. Ed was right. He was better than this.  
He inhaled shakily as he felt Ed ruffle his hair fondly. Oswald leant into the gesture, savouring the warmth of Ed’s touch and the kindliness of the motion. He looked up at Ed and when he saw he was smiling, Oswald’s heart skipped a beat.

‘Then don’t be sorry’, Ed said simply.

To Oswald, protecting that smile was worth any amount of blood on his hands.


	15. I Can't Stand To See You Cry

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> deeblueriddles asked: I might cry for number 2 "Please don't cry, I can't stand to see you cry."
> 
> *** 
> 
> On the way to the docks on that rainy day…

‘Please don’t cry. I can’t stand to see you cry. It’s pathetic’.　

‘I’m not’, Oswald replies, looking out of the car window, ‘Just cold is all’.　

They drive in silence for a time. The only sound is the window wiper swaying back and forth on the windshield as rain patters down.  
The roads are quiet, the grey, overcast clouds causing most Gothamites to stay inside.　

‘Ed, I-‘　

'Don’t’.　

Ed sees Oswald flinch at the shut down out of the corner of his eye.  
He feels an unwelcome pang of sympathy at the reaction.  
He used to do the same thing when his father snapped at him.　

'At least tell me where we’re going’, Oswald says.　

Ed doesn’t reply.  
Because he’s not sure.　

'Am I supposed to guess?’ Oswald asks, a disturbing eagerness creeping into his voice, ’ Is it another test?'　

'Be quiet’.　

'What does it matter if I talk?'　

'Because there’s no point’.　

'But we haven’t talked!’ Oswald cries, 'We’ve shouted at each other and you’ve tried to murder me but we haven’t actually talk-'　

'There is nothing to talk about’, Ed growls, trying to keep his voice level, 'Now shut up. I need to focus’.　

Silence resumes. Ed is tempted to turn on the radio to banish the quiet that is making his skin crawl but keeps both hands clasped on the wheel.

He will not show weakness.  
Not now.  
Not after everything he’s done.　  
Not after everything Oswald has done.

'I’m sorry’.　

Ed can’t suppress a gasp at Oswald’s quiet words.　

'For everything’, Oswald concludes.

The sad resignation in Oswald’s voice, the voice of a doomed man, breaks Ed’s tenuous grip on control.　

'And that’s supposed to make everything all better?!’ he rages, 'You’re not sorry for what really matters! You’re just sorry I figured things out and you’re now going to pay for what you did!'　

They stop at a red light which gives Ed the chance to look Oswald in the eye.  
To challenge him to deny it.  
He does not anticipate Oswald’s face to be so…emotionless.　

'You think killing me will make things right?’ Oswald presses, 'That it’ll make you feel better?'　

Ed turns away, eyes locked on the lights, willing them to change.  
Whatever cheap distraction Oswald has planned is not going to work.　

'The point is, you’re not sorry’, Ed deadpans, 'You can’t be’.　’

Why not?'　

'Because I know you!’ Ed snaps.　

'Did that make it easier or harder to tear me down?’, Oswald asks, a note of resentment creeping into his voice for the first time since leaving the Sirens.

'Did knowing me make it easier or harder to cut her brakes?’ Ed retorts instantly.

The lights change and the car moves off.  
Ed can hear seagulls calling and can see shipping containers out of the window.  
It won’t be long now.　

'Just tell me one more thing’, Oswald says, 'Then I’ll stop talking. Consider it a last request’.　

'What?’ Ed concedes.　

Fine.  
Oswald can have a last request.  
They’ll do things right.　

'Did you really put my father’s body in a dumpster?'　 

Ed is taken aback by the query.

He had expected Oswald to ask if Ed had loved him.  
A pointless question with an obvious answer but he had presumed Oswald would ask anyway.  
Oswald is looking at him again.  
Ed can feel his eyes and he can sense the worry in them.　  
He seems more worried about this than whatever Ed has planned.

'No. I put him back with your mother’, Ed answers truthfully, 'They had nothing to do with this. Made no sense to punish them’.　

There is no reason to withhold the information.  
It won’t help Oswald in the slightest.

Ed parks the car and turns off the engine.  
Ahead of them, the docks loom, grey and cold.　

'Thank you’, Oswald whispers.　

This time Ed knows Oswald is crying.  
He lets him.


	16. I Won't Let Anyone Hurt You

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> buntesfuenkchen asked: Nygmobblepot - 13 - "I won't let anyone hurt you, you are safe with me." Thank you! 

‘Ed? What are you doing out here?‘　

Ed’s breath mists as he turns to see Oswald approaching. He is coming down the hill slowly, taking care not to slip on the Autumn leaves beneath his feet.

Ed waits for Oswald to reach the gazebo and take a seat beside him before replying.　

‘Couldn’t sleep’, he replies, ‘The bed feels…odd’.　

Oswald glances over his shoulder at the dark mansion.　

‘I know the feeling’, he says, rubbing his gloved hands together for warmth, 'After those Arkham beds, it feels like a marshmallow doesn’t it?'　

'Like you’re drowning’.　

A cool wind blows and Ed crosses his arms and huddles down. Oswald moves closer to him on the bench. 　

'It’s going to take you a while to adjust being back out in the real world’, he says, 'But…this isn’t just about the beds is it?’ 　

'I had a bad dream. That’s all’.　

'What was it about?'　

'Does it matter?’ Ed shrugs, 'Ruminating on dreams is pointless and illogical’.

'Some people would say sitting out in the open on a cold night when there’s a warm bed waiting for you is illogical’, Oswald replies, returning the shrug.　

Ed stares ahead at the dark trees and for a moment, Oswald thinks he’s not going to answer.

Until he hears Ed give a deep but shaky breath.　

'It was about my’, Ed clears his throat as his voice catches, 'About my father’.

Oswald sees Ed’s hands shaking and Ed struggling as he tries to continue. He wets his lips and his mouth opens and closes. There is a bead of sweat tracing down Ed’s brow despite the frosty night.

Eventually Ed gives a hoarse sigh and shakes his head.

Oswald pats Ed’s knee, reassuring Ed that he does not have to say anything if he doesn’t want to.

'I won’t let anyone hurt you’, Oswald says, voice sounding loud in the quiet night, 'You’re safe with me’.　

At first he feels foolish for speaking so sentimentally to a scientist like Ed but then Ed nods gratefully.

Ed sees something enter his peripheral vision.

Oswald is offering him a pair of dark green gloves. Ed takes them and pulls them on.

They are too big for Oswald’s hands and he realises Oswald brought them outside for him.　

'Come back in when you’re ready’, Oswald says gently, patting Ed’s shoulder.

Oswald leaves him in the gazebo, wondering if he is doing the right thing by leaving Ed alone with his thoughts. He suddenly hears leaves rustling and smiles with relief when he sees Ed hurrying to catch up with him.


	17. Why Are You Crying?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> buntesfuenkchen asked: Nygmobblepot - 48 - "Why are you crying?" 

‘Why are you crying?‘　

‘I’m not’, Oswald replies, rubbing at his eyes, ‘My eyes are irritated'　

'It’s a perfectly logical response to pain. You do have a bullet wound in your shoulder’.　

'I know!’ Oswald retorts, tightening the drawstring of Ed’s dressing gown.

'You have to grieve Mr Penguin. It’s the only way to begin the healing process’.

'I’m. Not. Crying’.　

'You shouldn’t feel sorry for yourself’, Ed continues, 'When you’re at the bottom, the only way to go is-'　

'Away and stop bothering me?!’ Oswald interrupts, pulling the blanket tighter around himself.　

Ed takes a breath and starts again.　

'I’m just trying to say if you need to talk about anything, about how you’re feeling, I’m here. I won’t tell anyone’.　

'I don’t 'need’ to talk about anything and I don’t want or need your sympathy!’ Oswald snaps.　

He is surprised to feel shame coil in his stomach at the hurt expression on Ed’s face. It only lasts for a second before Ed shrugs and picks up the tray he has brought over to the bed.　

'I guess I’ll just throw this soup away then’, Ed says and turns to bring it back to the kitchen.　

Oswald’s eyes linger on the steaming bowl and warm bread beside it and his stomach gives an audible growl.　

'Don’t’, Oswald says, defeated, 'Please’.　

Ed places the tray back down and asks, 'When was the last time someone brought you something without asking for something in exchange?'　

Ed doesn’t expect an answer and Oswald doesn’t give him one as his tears begin to spill freely onto the bedspread.

They both know the answer and they both know she’s dead.


	18. Bite Me

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Anonymous asked: 17. "bite me" and 18. "if you insist" in one?

‘I suppose you think you’re funny’.　

Ed breaks out in a cold sweat as he recognises the voice. He hears his apartment door close and Penguin’s telltale heavy tread as he approaches. Ed curses his lack of attention and turns slowly.　  
Penguin is staring at him coldly but thankfully seems to be alone and unarmed.  
Ed realises Penguin must have been hidden behind the door when he came in and knows there’s no point asking how Penguin found his hiding spot. He just wishes Grundy was here instead of next door at Cherry’s getting patched up after his latest bout.　Ed removes his hat and places it over the incriminating beak like nose piece sitting on the couch where he had thrown it.  
Penguin’s eyes narrow.　

‘You-uh’, Ed clears his throat, 'You saw everything?'　

Penguin’s hands tighten on his cane and Ed immediately thinks of his neck trapped in that grip. 

It’s definitely what Penguin’s thinking.　

'Penguins don’t honk’, Penguin says, 'Geese honk’.

Ed realises Penguin is referring to the mocking noises Ed makes as means of introducing his 'Penguin’ persona in the ring.　

'I’m sure you didn’t come all this way just to correct me on that’, Ed replies, trying to think about what he could use as a weapon.　

'I wanted to see your little act for myself. Frankly, not impressed. Or amused’.　

'Well, you’re not the target audience’, Ed retorts, slightly irked by Penguin’s critique, 'The people seem to love it’.　

'The people are a nest of vipers!’ Penguin explodes, 'They may pretend to love you now but just wait, as soon as they think you’re weak or not one of them, they’ll turn on you and trust me Ed, you’re not one of them!'

Ed laughs at Penguin’s rant, realising if Penguin has seen his entire act then he has also seen the crowd’s reaction to it. It must sting to know you’re so unpopular.

'Thank you for the warning’, Ed sneers, 'But I don’t need their 'love’. Thanks to you, I can’t even stomach the concept’.　

Penguin crosses the room with frightening speed and grabs Ed by the neck. Ed instantly chokes as Penguin begins to squeeze, his fingers deliberately exerting pressure on his Adam’s apple to make him gag.  
Despite the pain and fear, Ed feels oddly exhilarated as he sinks instinctively to his knees.  
Penguin is glaring down at him but Ed senses ambivalence.   
Hesitation.　  
Ed, emboldened by adrenaline, manages to choke out some disjointed syllables which makes Penguin loosen his grip. Ed falls forward, panting, rubbing his throat and Penguin stares down at him.  
The look in his pale eyes makes Ed’s heart flutter.  
　  
'You’ve…done this…before’, Ed grins up at Penguin.　

Ed gets to his feet slowly, expecting Penguin to knock him down or launch another physical assault.  
It never comes.  
Penguin is watching him warily.  
Ed sees his fingers drumming on his cane and he realises Penguin doesn’t know what to do now.　

'What’s the matter?’ Ed taunts, coughing, 'Can’t finish?'　

Ed is satisfied to see Penguin’s cheeks blush red at the double entendre. Penguin opens and closes his mouth, no doubt trying to pick a venomous comeback.　

'It’s okay’, Ed chuckles, 'Some people need help to finish’.　Penguin advances on Ed.  
Ed does not back away.  
They are so close they could kiss, Penguin glaring up at Ed and Ed looking back impassively.　

'Bite me’, Penguin growls.　

Ed leans in.   
Penguin does not concede ground, not even when Ed’s head is resting on his shoulder. He feels Penguin stiffen at the bodily contact.  
Ed turns his head, letting Penguin feel the edges of his smile on the shell of his ear.　

'If you insist’, Ed whispers.


	19. Just Shut Up And Kiss Me

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> buntesfuenkchen asked: Nygmobblepotpositivity! - 26- “Just shut up and kiss me.” PLEASE!!! 

Ed paces in Arkham’s exercise yard, trying to make the most of the twenty minutes of fresh air he’s permitted every day.  
He looks up at the grey sky and muses on how it looks like rain.  
When was the last time he felt rain on his skin?

It’s only been a month since Cherry’s Place was raided by the newly reinvigorated GCPD with Gordon at the helm. It had taken six officers armed with riot shields, tranq guns and tazers to take Grundy down. After seeing that display, Ed had surrendered immediately.

Ed will hopefully see Grundy when they let him out of solitary confinement.  
Ed hasn’t spoken to anyone since he’s been back behind bars.   
What’s the point?  
Nobody listens. Nobody truly understands.

He turns a corner on the white square painted on the asphalt and begins his final lap before he will be forced back inside his cage.  
Leaves crunch beneath his feet and he kicks them idly, a smile threatening to curl at the corners of his mouth.

Suddenly there is a harsh gust of wind and the leaves are sent scattering away, whirling like dervishes. Ed’s eyes follow them only to land on a pair of Arkham standard issue slacks.

Ed gasps as he identifies their owner.

Oswald’s eyes are wide,a vivid bruise shining on the pale skin of his face. The Arkham uniform hangs off his frame. It is dishevelled. It seems Oswald has just experienced the ‘welcoming committee’: a light rough housing from the guards as a way to break new inmates in.

Oswald gives a compulsive half sob and pelts towards Ed as fast as his bad leg will allow.  
Ed doesn’t move as Oswald clings to him, his nails digging into Ed’s cold flesh beneath his thin uniform. 

‘Just-just let me hold you’, Oswald is whispering desperately, ‘Please! I-I can’t be back in here. Not alone. Please, please don’t-don’t push me away! Just…let me have you. Just for a moment’.

Ed slowly, carefully embraces Oswald.  
He clutches him tight as Oswald vents his fear and frustration.  
Oswald feels warm in his arms.  
How desperate must he be to run into his arms like this?

Finally, Oswald’s sobs segue to deep yet shaky inhalations as he begins to calm himself.

‘I’m sorry’, Oswald says as he straightens, wiping his reddened eyes, ‘That won’t happen again’.

He turns brusquely to leave but Ed grabs his wrist.

‘Let go’, Oswald says in a dead voice and tries to yank his hand out of Ed’s grip.

Ed does not let go.  
Oswald’s half-assed attempt to free himself only makes Ed grip tighter.

‘I said-’

‘I heard what you said’, Ed interrupts, pulling Oswald back towards him.

‘Ed, I am warning you’, Oswald threatens.

‘I said ‘I heard you’‘. I just don’t believe that’s what you want’.

Oswald growls and finally frees his hand. He makes a move as if to push Ed back but somehow ends up resting his palms lightly on Ed’s chest. 

They drift upwards until they loop around the back of Ed’s neck.  
Oswald isn’t looking at Ed.

‘What do you want Oswald?’ Ed asks.

He places his thumb beneath Oswald’s chin and tilts it up. Oswald’s eyes are half hooded and glistening. Ed moves his hand so the tip of his thumb is resting at Oswald’s lips. Oswald breathes on it and daintily touches it with the tip of his tongue.  
Ed hisses an intake of breath through clenched teeth as Oswald takes his thumb into his mouth and begins to suck on it obscenely.  
After a few seconds he stops and licks his lips gratuitously.

‘What do you want Ed?’ Oswald teases, aroused by the re-balance of power.

Ed is hypnotised by those pink, soft lips as Oswald’s tongue moves along them and makes them shine.  
In that moment, nothing else matters to Ed except the warmth flooding his system.

‘Just shut up and kiss me’, Ed snaps.

As Oswald begins to oblige, Ed feels alive for the first time in weeks.


	20. What Happened Back There?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Anonymous asked: Nygmobblepot - 64 - "What happened back there?"

‘Well?’ Ed asked nervously.

Oswald kicked the mansion front door closed behind him and held out his hands like a magician proudly unveiling a trick.

‘It’s done’, Oswald said, smiling, ‘You and Isabella are officially over’.

Ed gave a shaky sigh and adjusted his glasses.  
Oswald planted himself on the couch and put his foot up on a footstool.

‘So, what happened back there?’ Ed pressed.

‘What does it matter?’ Oswald shrugged, ‘I dealt with it for you’.

He was slightly irritated by Ed’s prying.  
Was it not enough that he had been forced to endure the little fool’s company and baseless allegations?!  
How dare she throw the word ‘love’ around when she didn’t even know what it meant?!  
Infatuation, mindless adoration and delusional obsession for something beyond your reach was not love!  
Ed wasn’t seriously expecting a play by play was he?

‘Do you mean you dealt with it or that you…’dealt’ with it?’

Ed formed his fingers into a gun and Oswald gave a bark of laughter as he realised the real reason behind Ed’s anxiety.  
He supposed it made sense.  
Despite the unworthy partner Isabella had been, Ed had been fond of her. 

‘Give me some credit Ed!’ Oswald said, ‘It’s not like she was a threat of any kind!’

‘Of course not’, Ed said, smacking himself on the side of the head, ‘Silly of me think that. I’m sorry for suggesting-’

‘Don’t be sorry!’ Oswald waved breezily, ‘The point is now we can get back to business. I have some ideas for a new casino that I think you’ll-’

Oswald was suddenly cut off by a jazzy musical chime suddenly ringing out. He looked at Ed with trepidation only to see him staring anxiously at his phone.

‘Ed don’t!’ Oswald snapped but it was too late.

Ed clicked the phone open.  
Oswald bit his tongue so hard he thought he would tear it in two as Ed had a short, hushed conversation with Isabella.  
He swallowed the bile rising in his throat and plastered a appropriately concerned look on his face as Ed hung up.

‘You’re not going to go see her are you?!’ Oswald demanded.

Ed’s eyes flicked back and forth.

‘You can’t give in to her! It’s over! End of story!’

‘This is a sign’, Ed mused, holding up the phone.

‘Of a desperate, clingy, ex girlfriend!’

‘Maybe’, Ed conceded, frowning, ‘But whatever her faults, it was wrong to get you to do my dirty work for me. It was cowardly. I’m sorry for putting you in that position’.

‘Well it’ll be for nothing if you go to her now!’ Oswald snapped but Ed didn’t seem to be listening. 

‘The only right way to end things with Isabella is for her to hear it from me. I owe her that’.

Oswald’s nails dug into the arm of the couch and his jaw tightened.

‘Thank you for your help Oswald. I do appreciate it’.

Oswald looked up and upon seeing Ed’s warm smile, most of his venomous anger evaporated.  
It was wrong to be angry at Ed.  
He just wanted to do the right thing.

‘Very well’, Oswald said, ‘I suppose it’s very admirable of you to agree to end things properly. I’ll be here if you need me’.

Oswald stood up and patted Ed on the shoulder but Ed surprised him by pulling him into an embrace.   
Oswald gently kissed Ed’s shoulder, not hard enough for him to feel it but enough to satisfy Oswald that he had left an invisible mark on Ed.  
One that Isabella couldn’t touch.

‘My advice is to make it quick’, Oswald said as they both broke the embrace, ‘As painless as possible’.

Ed nodded and left.  
When Oswald heard the car moving down the drive, he picked up the phone.  
It only rang once before it was picked up.  
The phone creaked in Oswald’s white knuckled grip.  
The plan was already fully formed in his head.  
Basic but effective.  
Quick and as painless as possible.  
But not completely painless.

‘Gabe’, Oswald said, calmly, ‘I have a job for you’.


	21. Who Hurt You?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> buntesfuenkchen asked: Nygmobblepot - 49 - "Who hurt you?"

‘This the guy you have a problem with right?’ the gangster asks Oswald.　

‘Did you do this to him?‘　Oswald asks, eyes still on Ed.  
He takes in the crumpled suit, the bruises on Ed’s face and the blood from his nose. He knows technically it’s a pointless question. The gangster (Oswald hasn’t bothered to ask his name) has been describing his feat at length: how he happened upon Ed in a dark alley and knocked him out with a blow to the back of the head before delivering him to the Iceberg Lounge. Oswald just wants to hear the cretin admit it.

‘Wouldn’t stop movin’’, the gangster shrugs, 'What I get for bringin’ him in?'　

Oswald doesn’t even blink as he stabs the gangster in the neck but his lip curls as some blood gushes over the seated Ed. Ed barely flinches, his face a mask of irritated resignation.

'You get exactly what you deserve’, Oswald says, stepping over the gangster’s twitching body.  
He uses the same knife to slice Ed’s bonds then offers him a handkershief. Ed takes it and wipes his face.

'I suppose that’s as good an apology as any'　he deadpans as he cleans his glasses.

'Someone shoving you in the trunk of a car is not my fault’, Oswald says taking a seat at the bar, 'It’s no secret that you and I have our differences’.

'He sure seemed to think he was doing you a favour’, Ed retorts, standing up and rubbing his sore wrists.

'He wasn’t’, Oswald shrugs.  
He pours himself a drink and adds some icecubes.  
Ed stands expectantly, almost impatient as Oswald takes a long draught.

Realising Oswald is not planning to say anything, Ed says, 'I had a plan to kill him by the way'.

'Never said you didn’t’, Oswald replies.

Ed pulls a mocking face but then flinches immediately, raising a hand to his bruised cheek. Oswald takes some ice from a nearby bucket and puts it into a clean bar rag.  
He offers it to Ed. Ed begins to reach for it automatically before something clicks in his head and his fingers curl into a fist.

'Leave it!’ Ed snaps, 'it doesn’t hurt’.

Oswald dumps the rag down on the bar and turns his back on Ed.

'Then you can get out of here’, he says simply.

'Wait, you’re just going to let me walk out of here?'　

'If I decide to kill you Ed, I’ll do it myself’, Oswald says without turning around.

'If?’ Ed prompts smugly.

''When’ I decide to kill you’, Oswald corrects, shoulders stiffening, 'At least try and make it a challenge for me will you?’

He doesn’t turn around and Ed’s smirk fades.

'Looking forward to it’, Ed snipes and limps from the Lounge, tucking Oswald’s bloodied handkerchief into his pocket.


	22. You're More Than That

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> buntesfuenkchen asked: Nygmobblepot - 93 - “You’re more than that.” + 28 - “I care about you.”? 

‘So you’re just going to leave as usual?’

Ed sighed.  
He could feel Oswald staring at him accusingly from the bed.

‘Why?’ Ed asked, careful to keep his tone neutral, ‘Do you have something to talk about?’

Ed’s indifferent tone was too much for Oswald to take.  
He slammed his fists on the bedspread.

‘How about the fact we never talk?!’ he shouted, ‘You show up at the Lounge, have a couple of drinks, I come down, you make some smart comment, I drag you into the office to teach you some respect, we fuck like animals and the next thing I know…’

Oswald trailed off and sighed, gesturing with open arms.

‘Here we are with you thinking you’re sneaking out’.

Ed turned just in time to see Oswald get out of bed, throwing the blanket off himself as if it were a poisonous snake.   
Ed fought the urge to stare at Oswald’s naked backside as he bent over to retrieve his briefs from the floor where they had been discarded the night before.  
The bruises and bitemarks on Oswald’s skin from their frenzied love making shone in the light as he moved: dark thunderclouds on pale flesh.

‘Is there something wrong with where we are?’ Ed asked, rubbing his own shoulder.   
He fancied he could feel the teethmarks Oswald had left on his shoulder through his shirt.

‘Not at first but I-’ Oswald’s jaw clamped shut, ‘You know what? It doesn’t matter. Just go’.

Ed was taken aback by the hurt in Oswald’s voice.

‘What’s wrong with you?’ he asked, ‘I thought we were having fun?’

‘Maybe I don’t want just ‘fun!’’

‘We promised we wouldn’t look too deep into this Oswald’, Ed reminded him gently, ‘That was the agreement’.

‘I know it was!’ Oswald snapped, stumbling slightly as he stepped into his trousers.

Ed took a step forward to try and help but Oswald’s glare halted him in his tracks.

‘It’s not fair to be angry at me for sticking to the terms of our agreement’, Ed retorted.

‘Forget it’, Oswald sniffed, a bitter smile on his face, ‘I’m sure there are plenty of other warm holes you can stick your cock into for an hour or two. They won’t be as cheap as me but-’

‘You’re more than that!’

Oswald angrily threw away the shoe he had just retrieved from the floor. It smacked off the wall.

‘Then why don’t you stay?!’ he demanded, eyes glistening, ‘You always leave! If you cared about me, you’d stay!’

‘I can’t stay!’

‘Is it because you’re still angry with me?!’ Oswald cried, eyes widening in realization, ‘For everything I did to you?! You said you’d forgiven me! Is that what this is about?! I would never hurt you Ed!’

‘I know that! That’s not it!’

‘Then what is it?!’ Oswald yelled desperately, grabbing hold of Ed’s collar, ‘What’s wrong?!’

‘I think I’m in love with you and that scares the crap out of me! Alright?!’

Oswald blinked.   
Ed tried to take deep breaths, struggling to keep his heart rate under control.  
The words had slipped out before he could stop them.

‘You-you love me?’ Oswald repeated.

Ed gave a harsh sigh and took off his glasses.

‘Sex is easy’, he said, rubbing the bridge of his nose, ‘Do you know why?’

Oswald shook his head like a child listening to a bedtime story and Ed continued.

‘Because there’s no thinking involved. The brain takes a backseat and we both have a great time. But after, when I’m lying there beside you, in the dark and the quiet, my brain kicks back into gear and I think about how much it would hurt to lose you and…’

Ed trailed off and replaced his glasses.  
He took hold of Oswald’s hands and lowered them from his collar. Oswald didn’t resist. Ed watched his eyes dart back and forth and realised Oswald was weighing up his sincerity.  
It stung to see Oswald doubt his words but Ed knew he deserved it.   
Ed had literally made a career out of not giving a straightforward answer.

‘It’s easier to pretend I don’t care’, Ed concluded, ‘Safer’.

As Ed began to remove his hold on Oswald’s hands, Oswald surged forward and embraced him.  
Without hesitation, Ed held him close.

‘I care about you’, Oswald’s muffled voice said, ‘I can’t help it’.

‘I can’t help it either’, Ed laughed shakily.

His so called ‘logical’ reasoning, now it was exposed, seemed increasingly childish and selfish.

‘I always wanted to stay’, Ed whispered as he tenderly kissed the top of Oswald’s head.

‘Will you stay now?’

Ed shuddered at the naked, vulnerable hope in Oswald’s voice and clutched him tighter.

‘For as long as you like’, he replied, wondering how he had ever left to begin with.


	23. Do You Want To Kiss As Bad As I Do?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Anonymous asked: "You're so fucking hot when you're mad" and "Do you want to kiss as bad as I do right now?" Thanks!
> 
> PERFUME FICLET

‘You are being totally unreasonable’, Ed sniffed dismissively, ‘She was just being friendly’.

‘She was being annoying!’ Oswald snapped, throwing his umbrella into the waiting stand.

He slammed the mansion door closed behind him.  
Ed hung up his coat and crossed his arms.

‘So because a young woman was slightly annoying you by daring to have a conversation with me, you threw her out of the Lounge?’ he asked, ‘Doesn’t seem like a very sound business practice. Or…’

Ed’s eyes lit up and Oswald bristled.

‘Is someone jealous?’ Ed teased.

Oswald rolled his eyes and scoffed as he threw himself down onto the couch.  
Ed could see from Oswald’s flushed cheeks that he was right.  
Seeing a spritzer sitting on the coffee table, Ed picked it up and sprayed some of the perfume in Oswald’s face.

Oswald spluttered as he got some in his mouth. Scowling at Ed’s smirk, Oswald snatched Ed’s pocket square from Ed’s breast pocket to wipe his face.  
He threw it at Ed who coolly caught it and folded it away, sniffing as the scent tickled his nose.

‘You are so childish sometimes!’ Oswald snapped.

‘Well, you are so fucking hot when you’re mad’, Ed retorted snidely.

Both men stopped in their tracks, their confused faces a mirror image of each other.

‘What?’

‘You…heard me?’ Ed said, wondering why he had said that instead of the witty yet venomous retort that had been brewing in his brain.

‘Yes I heard you. It just didn’t make much sense as an insult’, Oswald said, ‘Unless this is some kind of weird new way to mess with me? Because it’s not funny. You press my buttons and get on my nerves because you know I’m only pretending to be mad and all I want is to have you inside me and-’

Oswald physically slapped a hand over his mouth to halt any more words spilling out.   
Both men’s eyes drifted to the spritzer bottle on the table.

‘Ivy’, Oswald groaned, running a hand over his face before glaring at Ed, ‘Did you do this on purpose?! Did you know that perfume was one of hers?!’

‘No’, Ed answered instantly, Ivy’s perfume robbing him of the ability to lie, ‘But I’m kind of glad events have turned in this direction’.

‘Why?!’ Oswald demanded, ‘You now what that stuff does!’

‘At least now you have to answer me’, Ed said simply, ‘Why do you get so jealous?’

‘Because I don’t want to lose you’, Oswald replied without hesitation albeit through gritted teeth, ‘It scares me’.

Oswald kept his eyes locked on the carpet even as Ed sat beside him.  
The feeling of Ed so close to him triggered an unexpected surge of warmth in his loins and he shuddered.  
He felt his eyes drawn to Ed almost as if by a magnetic force.  
Ed was gazing at him, pupils blown wide as he licked his lips.  
Oswald smelt the perfume grow stronger : it seemed to be bathing his field of vision in a warm haze.  
He could see in Ed’s eyes that he was feeling the same side effects.  
It was becoming harder and harder to be mad at him.  
Especially the way Ed was looking at him.

‘I’m not going anywhere’, Ed said quietly as he loosened his tie, ‘Uh, does it feel…warm to you in here?’

Oswald swallowed hard. His tongue felt tingly as he were eating sherbert.

Ed watched Oswald’s Adam’s apple bob up and down and sighed as the action conjured explicit yet enticing imagery.  
His stomach was fluttering with excitement as he saw Oswald sinking deeper and deeper into the perfume’s thrall.  
It was like watching a hungry predator wake up.

‘A-a little’, Oswald whispered thickly, ‘Kind of-kind of hard to focus’.

‘Then I just have one more question’, Ed said, breathing heavily.

‘What?’ Oswald breathed, feeling hot saliva dribbling between his teeth.

Oswald felt his hand beginning to slide up Ed’s leg. He couldn’t remember putting it there. Ed threw his tie away.  
They both watched it fall as if in slow motion.

‘Do you want to kiss as bad as I do right now?’ Ed asked.

The shaky question snapped the last rein Oswald had on his control.

‘I want more than that’, Oswald growled and threw Ed down on the couch, ‘Much, much more’.


	24. I Care About You

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Anonymous asked: Nygmobblepot- 28: "I care about you" and/or 33: "Don't cry" 

‘Don’t cry’.

‘I’m not doing it on purpose’.

Ed glances up at Oswald’s face and sees he is telling the truth. Tears of pain are glistening in his eyes but Oswald’s expression is otherwise neutral.  
He’s not looking at Ed, choosing instead to feign interest in a nearby potted plant.  
Ed returns his attention to his task.  
The skin of Oswald’s ankle is red raw beneath the ice pack Ed is applying to it. He knows it must be tender but Oswald gives no outward sign it bothers him save for the tears.   
The one physical reaction to pain he cannot control.

‘That was quite a tumble out there’, Ed comments.

Oswald winces but Ed knows the reaction isn’t to do with his leg.

‘Did anyone laugh?’ Oswald asks, eyes steely above his reddened cheeks.

Ed thinks back to the reaction of the patrons when Oswald had fallen down the stairs.  
It was a natural mistake: just a miscalculation of where Oswald had placed his cane. He hadn’t fallen far but he had fallen hard, the cry of pain akin to a wounded bird brought crashing unexpectedly to Earth.  
Ed had heard it from his seat at the bar and instinctively come running.  
There had been some quiet, nervous laughter until Ed had parted the crowd and helped Oswald up. A pointed glare from him silenced it completely, prompting the patrons to go back to what they had been doing before Oswald’s mishap.  
Nobody had watched them leave the Lounge floor, Ed supporting Oswald to help him reach the sanctuary of his office.   
Oswald had not resisted.

‘No’.

Oswald nods and Ed silently muses on how many lives he has just saved with that simple white lie.

‘You can stop now’.

Oswald makes a move to rise but halts when Ed gently touches his ankle. Ed’s fingertips feel warm on his chilled skin.

‘This is badly inflamed Oswald’, Ed chides gently, ‘Even for this time of year. You haven’t been resting it’.

‘I don’t have the time’, Oswald says, glancing away.

‘If you don’t start making time, your body will force you to. It just tried’.

‘I don’t need a lecture’, Oswald says tersely.

‘It’s not a lecture. Just some advice’.

Oswald seems about to argue but then sighs heavily and leans back resignedly. Ed resumes holding the ice pack, humming to himself.  
After a few minutes, he Ed becomes conscious of Oswald’s eyes on him.  
At first he’s confused.   
Ed has often helped Oswald deal with the pain of his mangled limb in the past and knows Oswald would rather die than admit how much it pains him.   
Oswald selects to ignore pain rather than face it and has always looked away when Ed has tended to his leg.  
Oswald is ashamed of his weakness, embarrassed to need another person’s help.  
But not this time.  
This time Oswald’s looking right at Ed. He can feel those green eyes burning down at him.  
It’s curious.

And then Ed realises.  
The song he is humming is the same one he had found for Oswald all those months ago in his apartment.  
Ed stops humming.

Silence reigns for a few moments.  
Oswald flinches as if shaking off rainwater and Ed whispers an apology as he realises he has been pressing the ice pack too tightly to his ankle.

‘We’re not friends’, Oswald asks in a strange, tight voice, ‘But you’re the only one who helped me out there’.

Ed can hear the tears in his voice now.   
He wonders how long they’ve been building.

‘Why are you helping me?’ Oswald continues, sniffing, ‘After everything?’

The answer comes simply to Ed.  
He doesn’t even have to think about it and is taken aback at the realization.  
And the ease with which he confesses it aloud.

‘Because I care about you’, Ed says simply, swallowing hard to dispel the lump in his own throat.


	25. Why Are You Whispering?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> andersandrew asked: Nygmobblepot with 47 maybe ? hohoho 

‘Why are you whispering?’ Oswald hissed.

‘Because bats have exceptional hearing’, Ed replied, casting a cautious eye over the display case they were huddled behind.

He couldn’t see over the prone figure of the mummy inside but could hear the various ‘oofs’ and assorted grunts from he and Oswald’s henchmen as they engaged the mysterious ‘Bat-Man’.  
Ed winced as he heard the visceral snap of a limb breaking and a squeal of pain to accompany it.  
The henchmen were really earning their wages tonight.  
And to think he and Oswald had both advertised this as an ‘easy mark’.

‘You don’t really believe those ridiculous stories do you?!’ Oswald scoffed, ‘That he drinks blood and-’

Ed jammed a hand tightly over Oswald’s mouth.  
Oswald glared at him.

‘Keep it down!’ Ed reproached, ‘With everything we’ve seen in our careers do you honestly want to take the risk that we are not dealing with some kind of bat human hybrid?!’

Oswald rolled his eyes and Ed removed his hand from Oswald’s mouth.

‘Why are you even here?’ Oswald asked.

‘Same reason as you’, Ed said, nodding his head towards the wall.

Oswald’s eyes narrowed as he saw what Ed was gesturing towards.  
An oil painting set in an ornate, gilded frame. It was on loan from another museum.

‘What interest could you possibly have-’ Oswald began but then understanding dawned, ‘Oh my God’.

‘What?’ Ed asked, panicked by Oswald’s tone, ‘Has he seen us?’

‘You only came here to steal that because I said I wanted it!’ Oswald snapped, jabbing a finger at the oil painting.

Ed gaped as his head swivelled between the painting and Oswald’s accusing finger.

‘Oh get over yourself Oswald!’ Ed hissed, slapping his finger out of the way.

‘Why else would you want a painting of Scott’s expedition to the North Pole?!’

‘Maybe because it’s a tribute to the fortitude of human endurance?’ Ed shrugged obviously, ‘Maybe I find it inspiring to see a representation of doubts silenced and limitations overcome?!’

‘Or maybe you just wanted to spite me!’ Oswald snapped, slamming a fist on the marble museum floor, ‘You know I want it for the Lounge!’

‘Why?!’

‘It fits my theme a bit more than yours don’t you think Riddler?!’

Ed bristled at the insulting tone Oswald used for his chosen title.

‘Not really Penguin!’ he countered, ‘Considering penguins are not native to the North Pole! Maybe I should have let you take it. I could have had a good laugh every time I saw it hanging up in your South Pole themed lounge!’

‘The Lounge isn’t named after me you dodo! Icebergs are not native to the South Pole! Just ask the captain of the Titanic!

‘Alright captain: how do we get out of this one?’ Ed asked, crossing his arms.

‘You’re the Riddler, you figure it out! 

‘Are you going to try and say whatever I come up with was your idea? Again?’

‘Depends on what you come up with’, Oswald said snidely, ‘Your past record isn’t very encouraging’.

‘Neither is yours bird brain’.

‘Did you come up with that one all by yourself?’

‘No but you’re not worthy of an original insult. My brain has better things to be doing’.

‘Like?’ Oswald prompted, curious as to why Ed’s smug grin had been overtaken by a look of sullen resignation. 

‘Wondering why it’s gotten so quiet all of a sudden’, he said.

‘I think we both know the answer to that don’t we?’ Oswald replied, sweat trickling down his neck as he became aware of a dark presence glaring down from the top of the display case.

Within moments, both self styled supervillains were installed safely in the back of a GCPD van, headed for processing and the inevitable gates of Arkham.  
Despite their ignominious defeat, neither man was too irritated at having been thwarted.  
They were too focused on each other.  
Alone together.

‘Will you stop fussing?’ Oswald chided.

Ed gave up trying to pick the cuffs. Evidently Batman had more complex equipment than the GCPD.

‘Why?’ he teased, ‘Handcuffs giving you ideas?’

Oswald rolled his eyes but Ed saw the ghost of a smile on his face.  
He loved that little half smile.  
Evidently Oswald had enjoyed their little spat of verbal jousting as much as he had.

‘Don’t flatter yourself Nygma’, Oswald replied but his flushed cheeks told Ed all he needed to know.

‘I wonder if we’ll end up sharing a cell again?’ Ed mused.

Oswald swallowed as he recalled the last time he and Ed had been incarcerated together.   
Nights in Arkham were notoriously cold but neither he or Ed had ever felt it. Sometimes one bed was better than two.  
The memory was far from unpleasant.  
As was the heat beginning to pool in his crotch.  
Looking at Ed, Oswald could see naked hunger in his eyes and noticed the pointed way Ed was spreading his legs as he leant back.

‘I hope so’, Oswald said.

‘Really?’

‘Oh yes’, Oswald said, a challenging smirk curling the corners of his mouth, ‘Making you miserable is the highlight of my day’.

‘Well, misery loves company’, Ed said, heart fluttering at the intensity in Oswald’s eyes.

‘It does, doesn’t it?’ Oswald purred.


	26. People Are Staring

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> edwardnashtons asked: 31 or 50?
> 
> (50: 'People Are Staring'

‘People are staring’.

‘And?’ Oswald asked, taking a sip of champagne.

‘They seem more interested in me being here than the fundraiser’, Ed said, annoyance creeping into his voice.

Oswald glanced around the room surreptitiously.   
The Gotham Zoo visitor centre was packed and the fundraiser for the new penguin exhibit was in full swing. People socialised and laughed beneath an impressive centrepiece ice sculpture of penguins gambolling down a slide and picked at the generous buffet on offer. Large crystal bowls held crisp bills and coins tinkled as they were deposited by benefactors.  
Ed had not taken a single sip of champagne, choosing instead to stand against the wall and survey the scene. Oswald saw from his own subtle survey that Ed was right. He seemed to be attracting quite a bit of attention.  
Especially from the women in the crowd.  
No doubt the flattering tuxedo Oswald had selected for Ed’s lean bodyshape was helping.

‘For what it’s worth I’m glad you’re here’, Oswald said, ‘Keeping track of who’s who is exhausting’.

Ed gave a small smile but put his champagne down on a passing tray and crossed his arms.

‘I could have written you a dossier or briefed you on the attendees. I don’t need to be here’.

‘I wanted you here’, Oswald said, touching Ed’s arm reassuringly, ‘I’m sorry if that’s selfish but they need to see’.

‘See what?’

‘That there’s no Mayor Cobblepot without Edward Nygma, Chief of Staff’, Oswald said, raising his glass to Ed in salute before quaffing it.

‘Edward Nygma. Insane serial killer’.

Oswald coughed as he swallowed, glancing around in case anyone had heard Ed’s blunt self-assessment.  
Trust Ed to assume the worst reason people would possibly be casting a few glances his way!

‘Formerly’, Oswald corrected hoarsely as he cleared his throat.

‘What am I supposed to do? Wear the certificate around my neck to prove that?’

Oswald twiddled his now empty champagne glass.

‘Why do you care so much about what they think?’ he asked after a few seconds.

‘Old habits I suppose’, Ed said wearily, ‘It’s just, you’ve worked so hard for this and-‘

‘’We’, Ed’, Oswald interjected, ‘We’ have worked so hard for this’.

‘And you should be enjoying your victory, not having to deal with suspicions and people doubting your choice of employees’.

‘You think that’s why they’re staring?’

‘What else could it be?’

Oswald laughed. He couldn’t help it.  
He just about managed to wrestle it under control when he saw Ed bristle, assuming of course that Oswald was laughing at him.

‘Do you know you’re the only one who’s cast any doubt about your appointment?’ Oswald asked.

Ed’s eyes narrowed and Oswald could see Ed running imaginary numbers in his head, trying to discern the probability that Oswald was being truthful.  
Oswald allowed it.  
He knew he was telling the truth.

‘Really?’

‘The only things I’ve heard people say about you tonight is how well you organized this fundraiser. Well, that and…’

Oswald trailed off, considering how best to broach the topic he had unexpectedly fielded the most questions about that evening. It was the one subject that Ed had not provided him with any cue cards for.

‘What? And what?!’ Ed demanded.

‘I had hoped to put this more delicately’, Oswald said, ‘But some, in fact most, people seem to think we’re here together’.

‘Of course we are!’ Ed cried incredulously, ‘I’m your Chief of Staff, we came in the same car-‘

‘No’, Oswald interrupted, ‘I mean ‘together’’.

Understanding dawned on Ed’s face.

‘Oh’, he said quietly.

‘Does that make you feel better or worse about the staring?’ Oswald asked, helping himself to a pastry to give Ed time to process the information.

‘It certainly explains it’, Ed admitted, ‘What did you tell them?’

‘About?’

‘About us being…together?’

Oswald smiled kindly at Ed’s worried expression.

‘I told them to think whatever they wanted’, he said gently, ‘What I didn’t tell them was I don’t give a damn what they think. About that or anything’.

Ed finally gave a genuine smile and Oswald watched him physically relax for the first time that evening.

‘You are just determined to make me feel better aren’t you?’ Ed asked, raising an eyebrow.

‘If you don’t start soon, I’m considering pulling rank. It’s a charity event Ed and charity begins at home’.

‘Meaning?’

‘Try and be kind to yourself for once?’

Ed nodded and took the pastry Oswald offered him.  
They stood for a few moments, watching the hustle and bustle, silently enjoying each other’s company, until Ed spoke.

‘They’re still staring’, Ed said, intrigue rather than annoyance in his voice now.

Oswald nodded.

‘What do you say we give them something to stare at?’ Ed asked, smirking, ‘For a bit of fun?’

Oswald, buoyed by his fourth glass of champagne, gave a low chuckle, picking up on Ed’s meaning.

‘Like this?’ Oswald asked and took Ed’s hand.

Ed nodded appraisingly at Oswald’s bold opening move but Oswald noted the glint in his eyes and smiled. He was excited to see what Ed would do to build on the manoeuvre.  
More excited than he would ever admit.

‘Not bad’, Ed said, ‘But I was thinking more along the lines of this’.

The kiss happened so quickly, Oswald barely had time to breathe.  
He touched his cheek and felt the slight damp mark Ed’s lips had left imprinted on the skin.  
Ed was smiling impishly at him and Oswald felt his cheeks redden.  
Despite Oswald’s heart pounding against his ribs and the eruption of butterflies in his stomach, he kept his lighthearted mask in place.  
Just a bit of fun that was all.  
Nothing serious.

There was a sudden flash which could only have come from a camera and a definite increase in conversational volume around them.

‘Now that’s a headline to get them talking’, Oswald winked, squeezing Ed’s hand, ‘Well played Mr Nygma’.

‘Thank you Mr Mayor’, Ed grinned, ‘Hey, can you imagine the look on Gordon’s face when he sees it?’

Both men burst into laughter.


	27. It Was You The Whole Time

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Anonymous asked: Nygmob, 10. “Come here.” Maybe with 24. “You’re trembling.”? :D
> 
> buntesfuenkchen said:Let Ed say 26. “It was you the whole time.”+ 4. “I should have told you a long time ago.” to Oswald, Pleeeaaase!
> 
>  
> 
> ***
> 
> Ed liberates Oswald from Arkham.

‘It’s not the luxury you’re used to but at least it’s dry’, Ed said.

He locked the door as Oswald moved into the apartment. Rainwater dripped from their clothing. Thanks to their flight from the GCPD into the sanctuary of the Narrows, both had ended up drenched by the icy Gotham rain.  
Ed’s green suit appeared be at least three shades darker than usual and had absorbed so much water, he felt several stone heavier.  
Oswald’s Arkham uniform, only partially hidden under a hastily purloined jacket, was clinging to his lean frame and his feet squelched in his standard issue plimsoles. His hair, usually akin to a bird’s crest, was limp and sodden.  
Ed flicked the light switch and cursed under his breath when nothing happened. The storm appeared to have caused a blackout.

‘Anything’s better than where I was’, Oswald said, ‘Even in a blackout’. 

He started to sit on the couch but changed his mind when he noticed water running out of his clothes and straightened.  
Ed noticed and recalled the ghostly hallucination of Oswald he had conjured up with pills. That Oswald hadn’t been concerned about the furniture and yet the real thing was now flicking stray droplets from the material.  
It wasn’t even a nice couch.

Oswald stood, feeling awkward as Ed began to light candles he had taken from a drawer.  
He wondered if he should offer to help but he was more concerned with what he was doing in Ed’s apartment in the first place.

‘Why did you break me out?‘ he asked.

Ed clicked the lighter closed as he finished lighting the last candle.  
Gold danced on the surface of his glasses as he regarded Oswald.

‘Don’t be afraid’. 

'I’m not’.

'You’re trembling’. 

Oswald’s brow furrowed and he spread his arms, water droplets falling onto the wooden floor in self demonstration.

'In case you haven’t noticed, this uniform isn’t exactly waterproof and (ironically) I didn’t have an umbrella. I’m cold. That’s all’.

Oswald spun on his heel and watched Ed warily as he walked to a double bed against the wall.  
Ed pulled the blanket back and extended a hand.

'Come here’, Ed said.

Oswald took a step back, arms crossed.

'Why?' he asked.

'This is the only way we’re going to get warm’, Ed said, patting the bed.

'You mean get in…together?' 

'Does that make you uncomfortable?' Ed asked, hanging his bowler hat on a nearby hook.

'No!’ Oswald exclaimed, watching Ed move his long fingers through his hair to slick it back, ‘I just…wasn’t expecting you to offer’. 

'You’ll need to get out of those wet clothes first. I’ll help you’. 

'You don’t have to-' 

'I said’, Ed emphasised, halting in front of Oswald, 'I’ll help you. Your hands are freezing’. 

Oswald’s fingers clenched and he flinched at the ache in his knuckles.

'What are you doing?’ Oswald asked as Ed began to unbutton Oswald’s shirt.

Ed knew Oswald wasn’t asking about Ed helping him undress.

'Answering your question’, Ed replied, ‘Do you remember how I used to help you dress?' 

'Why do you ask?’ Oswald asked, memories of his conversations with Ed in front of the looking glass surfacing despite his best attempts to ignore them.

'I think about those days a lot’, Ed said, carefully undoing one button after the other, ‘You and me. Ruling Gotham together’. 

Oswald said nothing, candlelight reflected in his pale eyes.  
Ed took his silence as encouragement to continue.

'Do you remember that night in front of the fire?' Ed asked.

Oswald nodded. He felt nauseous.  
Where was Ed going with this?

'I brought you tea with honey for your throat’, Oswald said quietly, ‘You were wearing my robe. We…’

Oswald cleared his throat.

‘We hugged’, he concluded.

‘Did you have feelings for me then?’

Oswald’s brow furrowed at the bluntness of the question. It almost seemed vulgar. Was that was this was about? Had Ed brought him here simply to reopen old wounds?  
But then, why was he being so gentle with him?  
So considerate.

‘How could I not?’ Oswald thought, ‘You saved my life. Like a knight in shining armour’.

Oswald swallowed hard, trying not to cringe at such childish notions.  
Ed was looking at him expectantly.  
Oswald nodded, doubting his ability to maintain his composure under Ed’s searching gaze.

‘Why didn’t you…go further?’ Ed asked, ‘I thought you wanted to but-' 

‘I was afraid!’ Oswald exclaimed suddenly, shoulders tensing as the words spilt out like a compulsive cough.

He took a deep breath to regain his composure.  
Ed finished unbuttoning Oswald’s shirt and halted. He sat on the couch and patted the seat beside him. Oswald, wrong footed by the way the conversation was going, sat as instructed, all thoughts of water damaged upholstery banished.

‘I didn’t want to lose what we had’, he said.

‘Me neither’, Ed said quietly.

‘What are you saying?' Oswald asked, heart racing at Ed’s quiet confession.

Ed said beside him on the couch, hands clasped in his lap.  
His knuckles were white.

‘I’m saying that back there I should have told you’, Ed said carefully, ‘I should have told you a long time ago’.

‘Told me what?' 

‘You know what’.

‘Tell me now’, Oswald pleaded, desperate to have his suspicions confirmed.  
He didn’t care if this was a cruel trick.  
He didn’t care if Ed had liberated him from the misery of Arkham just to spitefully throw his feelings back in his face.  
All he cared about was that maybe, impossibly, Ed felt the same way he did.  
As Ed locked eyes with him, Oswald felt as if he were teetering on the edge of a precipice.

'That it was you the whole time’, Ed said, ‘That I love you’.

Oswald gave a sob as he finally heard those blessed words.  
He clasped a hand over his mouth, eyes wide at how loud it had been.  
He felt his stomach roil even as his heart felt as if it would burst.

‘I would give anything to feel how I did in front of that fire again’, Ed said, tactfully ignoring Oswald’s emotions spilling over, ‘That warmth. That…' 

'Love?' Oswald added in a broken voice.

Ed’s eyes widened at the word even as he nodded agreement.  
He was staring at the candles, as if shocked at what he had just admitted aloud, head still nodding as if to encourage himself to continue with his confession.

'I broke you out because I couldn’t stand the thought of you in Arkham. You saved me from it once. I wouldn’t wish that place on anyone’.

'Not even your worst enemy?' 

Ed gave a bark of laughter.

'You really believe we’re enemies?’ he asked, ‘Because usually we’re both better at killing our enemies’. 

He stiffened as he felt Oswald’s fingers entwine with his.  
They were cool and steady. He prayed Oswald wouldn’t feel his hands shaking.

'Then what are we?’ Oswald pressed.

Ed looked skywards as if for answers and smiled sadly as he saw nothing but a dark ceiling.

'Alone in the darkness’, he said.

As he lowered his eyes, he realised Oswald was letting go of his hand.

'I also remember something else’, Oswald said.

Ed looked at him questioningly as Oswald stood.  
Suddenly Oswald’s shirt hit the floor.  
His pale flesh was almost luminescent in the candlelight. Oswald stood, tall now and proud as he gazed down at Ed. This was Oswald as he should be, free of self doubt and iron bars. Confident and himself again.  
The Oswald Ed had fallen in love with.  
Ed felt his cock twinge at the command in Oswald’s body language.  
He truly was the king he professed to be.  
Ed swallowed as Oswald placed a hand on either one of his shoulders as he leant down. Ed could see his surprised face staring back at him in the depths of Oswald’s eyes.

'This isn’t the first time you’ve seen me like this’, Oswald whispered, gaze half hooded.

Ed reached out with quivering fingers and traced the dark purple scar on Oswald’s shoulder. It almost seemed painted on.

Oswald sighed at the ticklish sensation of Ed’s fingertips. They were warm and soft: a balm to soothe the traces of Arkham’s oppressive atmosphere still clinging to his flesh.  
The former bullet wound had brought them together all those months ago in the woods.  
Oswald had often marvelled how the scar had only ever ached when Ed was not there.

Ed had been proud of the way he had applied his self-taught first aid skills and sealed the wound closed. How smooth the wound had been, the usual bumpiness and unsightliness of stitches absent thanks to his painstaking care and flawless technique.  
Oswald had been unconscious at the time, naked and prone on his bed as Ed had marvelled at his endurance, his strength and (though it may have been subconscious at the time) his attractiveness. A few times Oswald had stirred, mumbling something or crying out but Ed had ignored it, too focused on saving his life.  
But now, did Oswald mean he had actually been awake the whole time?

'If you were awake, why didn’t you say anything?' 

'Because, despite the pain, I liked how it felt to be touched. Nobody ever made me feel like you did’. 

Oswald layered his hand on Ed’s and held it up to his lips.  
He kissed Ed’s knuckles, one by one.

'How did you feel?' Ed sighed, melting into the light, breathy sensation of Oswald’s lips on his flesh.

'Like this’, Oswald said and leant forward.

Ed closed his eyes, awaiting the inevitable.  
Only to feel Oswald’s fingers entwine in his hair and pull him physically forward.  
Ed moaned at both the domination in the gesture and the heavenly feeling as their lips finally made contact.  
Oswald’s tongue parted his slack lips and he welcomed it, greedily suckling on it, taking it all into his, wet, hungry mouth. Unbidden, his brain showed him other parts of Oswald’s anatomy, the parallels obvious and enticing.  
Ed felt the edges of Oswald’s sharp teeth against his lips as Oswald nipped at them, as if to mark them forever as his. Ed growled low in his throat, relishing the dual sensation of pleasure and pain.  
It was new. It was exciting.  
He laughed giddily at Oswald’s eagerness and the alien yet intoxicating feeling of being desired. It was like a heady cloud making his veins dance and heart pound against his ribs. It was better than any drug because it was real.  
Ed grasped the sides of Oswald’s face, thumbs tracing the cheekbones as he subconsciously mapped the contours, trying to experience this every way he possibly could.  
Oswald’s other hand was on his shoulder, fingers gripping like a bird of prey’s claws, as if he would never let Ed go again.  
The desire, the wanton need made Ed whine like a dog as his hips bucked, chasing the delicious friction as his erection tented his pants. The chilliness of the rain melted away in the frenzy of fulfilled desire, their mingling, huffing breaths causing his glasses to steam and his eyelids to flutter.  
He felt Oswald smile against his mouth and his fingernails scrape against his scalp encouragingly, like a cat kneading its claws.

Then, it was over and all that Ed could see was those pale eyes, almost glowing in the gloom, waiting and watching. Ed gasped desperately, like a drowning man breaking the surface trying to fill his lungs with precious air.  
But Ed wanted nothing more than to dive back down into the darkness.  
Where the predator, beautiful and ravenous, was waiting to swallow him whole.  
All he had to do was ask.

'Can we get into bed now please?' Ed gasped.


	28. Something Beautiful From Something Painful

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> roguepythia asked: (You're amazing and I love your ficlets, thank you for offering!) Dialogue Prompt Ficlets: Any one of these?! 4,5,8,32,48
> 
> ***
> 
> Oswald rescues Ed from Sofia's clutches.

‘Why are you helping me?’

Oswald gave a frustrated sigh directed both at the key refusing to turn in the rusty lock and Ed’s ill timed question.

He had been quiet the whole time they had been running and he was asking questions now? Couldn’t he at least wait until they were inside?!  
For all they knew, the ‘Sirens’ (as they had started styling themselves) were about to round the corner and murder them both!

‘I was there to kill Sofia’, Oswald replied, jiggling the lock, ‘I didn’t know they had you too’.

‘That doesn’t answer my question’.

Oswald ignored him, focusing solely on getting the door open.

Ed watched Oswald’s back as he continued fumbling with the lock and distractedly rubbed his jaw. He did not push for an answer. He was keen to get inside. Mostly because the stone step he was sitting on was cold and thunder was rumbling overhead but also to elude their pursuers. He leant his head against the stone wall, savouring the cool surface on his bruised flesh. His eyes ached and his mouth was dry.

After a moment of not so gentle persuasion with the key and a final, sharp kick, the door creaked open.

Oswald pocketed the key and helped Ed stand again, supporting him under the arm as they entered the store.

Ed realised as soon as they got inside that it wasn’t a store at all. 

Instead it was one of Oswald’s many safehouses. Since Ed had been unaware of its existence, he figured it must be a new one. It was clean despite its external disused, unloved appearance but sparse. Oswald’s safehouses were usually luxurious in keeping with his temperament but this one, while cosy, was furnished only with the necessities. A stove was set into the wall beside a fridge and an open larder stocked with various foods, mostly canned. Beside a wardrobe there was a small bookcase that held well thumbed paperbacks and a television was perched atop it. There was no phone (the better to avoid traced calls) and Ed could see a small bathroom complete with a shower off to the side through a slightly ajar door.

Oswald directed Ed towards the bed. As Oswald fluffed the pillows up, Ed settled into a reclining position. He was grateful that, despite the ‘bare bones’ feel of this particular safehouse, Oswald had still installed a double bed. It was easier for Ed to stretch out his long body.

Ed reached for his glasses, flinching as his fingers ached but Oswald beat him to it. Folding their arms gently, he placed them on the bedside table. Both men were amazed that the glass lenses set into the frames were not damaged.

‘If you were there to kill her then why didn’t you?’ Ed asked, resuming his line of enquiry now that they were safely off the streets, ‘She was wounded and disorientated. Perfect opportunity’.

Oswald replayed the confrontation in his head to find an answer, recognising he would not be able to continue ignoring Ed if they had to hide in the safehouse together for God knew how long.

The plan had been a simple one.  
Minimum effort, maximum effect.

The GCPD were closing in on Sofia Falcone and her compatriots: Barbara Kean, Tabitha Galavan and Selina Kyle. It hadn’t taken long for Jim Gordon, chafing under Sofia’s behind the scenes ‘puppet mastery’ to rebel and declare her (and her associates) wanted criminals.  
Oswald had had the good fortune to escape from Arkham the week before.  
Just in time to capitalise on the GCPD’s usual ham fisted approach.  
When he had heard about the raid they had been planning, he simply went in a less obvious way when they had gone in the front.

Oswald wasn’t interested in the Sirens. They would be beyond his reach anyway, trying to repel the GCPD officers trying to batter down the doors of their little hideaway.  
Oswald wanted Sofia.  
What he had not expected when he had crept into the warehouse through a disused maintenance entrance was to find Ed tied to a chair, wrists bleeding from where the coarse rope binding him had scraped his skin.  
Sofia had been busy yelling down a phone at one of her subordinates as the far off shouts and gunplay had grown louder.  
Oswald couldn’t remember what she had been screaming about. He had been too busy looking at Ed.  
Ed, perhaps subconsciously sensing Oswald’s eyes on him, had raised his head. The lightbulb overhead had thrown the bruises on his high cheekbones into sharp relief. Lavender and lilac on his white flesh. His nose was caked in blood, dribbling down onto his mouth making it appear that he was wearing sloppily applied lipstick. Oswald recognised Tabitha’s brand of gentleness.  
Despite Ed’s unfocused, glistening gaze, Oswald knew that Ed knew he was there.  
Ed’s chapped lips had split into a wide grin, teeth shining white despite the blood on his gums as he had begun to laugh deliriously. Sofia had angrily clicked her phone shut and grabbed Ed’s jaw to silence him, leaning in to whisper something into his ear.  
Oswald had readied his switchblade, Sofia’s rough treatment of Ed making his blood boil but had stopped in his tracks.

Sofia’s scream had been strangely tuneful, the long wail audible even over the thunder of the gunshots. Oswald saw her head jerk strangely, like a fish caught on a line, her long dark hair reminiscent of trailing pond weeds.  
As Oswald had crept closer, he had seen what Ed had done.  
Ed pulled back and Sofia’s face did not come with him. She stumbled back and fled, blood spurting between her fingers as she clutched the side of her head. Ed had spat on the floor and a gobbet of flesh had landed with a wet, audible thud.  
It had been most of Sofia’s right ear.

Oswald had been startled by the savagery of the attack at first but this had quickly faded when he had seen Ed slump forward in the chair. Exhausted and helpless.  
Oswald saw himself in the chair. In all of it.  
It was what had drawn him to rush forward and free Ed, sawing desperately at the rope binding him to the chair with his knife. Sofia and all his thought of revenge were gone.  
He only had eyes for Ed.  
Because of this focus, Oswald couldn’t remember how they had made it outside. He remembered running, trying to help Ed move his numb legs and forcing his own malformed limb to support him during the frenzied light though the narrow streets, his brain racing to map the route ahead and find a safe haven from the GCPD and their other enemies.

Oswald cast a sideways glance at Ed. The blood on Ed’s chin had dried since but still shone brightly against his pale skin. The only blood on him that wasn’t his.

‘Would you rather I’d left you there?’ Oswald asked, looking down at the blood on his shirt.  
Ed’s blood.

‘More deflection’.

Oswald rolled his eyes at Ed’s analysis and bent over to untie his laces.  
He bit his tongue to stifle a cry as he removed the first shoe. His ankle was pounding, the pain from the running he had forced it to do jabbing all the way up to just above his knee.

‘You seem…more like yourself’, Oswald observed, resisting the urge to grasp his knee.

The best way to divert Ed’s attention from anything was to get Ed to talk about himself.

‘It turns out the degenerative effects of being frozen are temporary’, Ed said, moving his fingers as if to make sure he was still unfrozen, ‘The only thing wrong with me now are multiple contusions, assorted abrasions, some superficial cuts, a splitting headache and two-‘

Ed felt his chest experimentally and winced. He tried to take deep breaths, ignoring the ache as his lungs steadily expanded.

‘No’, he corrected, ‘Three bruised ribs’.

‘Do you need a doctor?’ Oswald asked, throwing his other shoe away.  
He flexed his toes, silently counting to ten, willing the pain to stop.

‘Right now, I just want to lie here’.

Oswald got up suddenly. He staggered for a second but steadied his stance by placing a hand on the bedpost. He began to limp towards the bathroom, back curved almost double as he leant heavily on his good leg.

‘Where are you going?’ Ed asked, one eye open.

‘Getting the first aid kit. Sit up and take off your shirt’.

**

‘Tell me: What’s best for muscle pain?’ Oswald asked, packing the kit away, ‘Warmth or cold?’

Ed counted the bandaids on his chest as he rebuttoned his shirt to avoid looking at the pre-existing scars form years ago. He was grateful that Oswald had not asked about them. He ached all over but in a good way, the clean dressings and saline solution working together in pharmaceutical harmony. He imagined he could almost feel his skin starting to knit back together.

‘Alternation is best’, he replied, flexing his bandaged fingers experimentally, ‘However most people use the RICE acronym. Rest, Ice, Compression, Elevation. Basic first aid. I think however that cold is more effective for ignoring pain whereas warmth is better for treatment of the psychological side of things’.

‘Which would you choose?’

‘Cold would be great’.

Oswald put the first aid kit away then went to the fridge. He took out a bottle of scotch and a clean glass from a cupboard. Pouring himself a measure, he knocked it back in one. He poured another as he began to place ice cubes in a dishcloth.

Ed looked at Oswald’s back as he tried to catalogue any injuries.

Apart from his leg which had bothered Oswald for as long as Ed had known him, Oswald seemed to be relatively untouched from their ordeal. Ed had been slightly out of it when they had first burst out of where he had been being held captive but he thought he could remember them falling once or twice on the way to the safe house. It was a logical assumption: despite his best, even heroic, attempts, Oswald’s disability could only have hindered him when trying to support Ed’s weight.  
But if they had fallen, if Oswald was in pain, he certainly wasn’t showing it.Then again, he never did.

‘Are you alright?’ Ed asked, deciding he needed Oswald to assess his condition personally to accurately complete his appraisal.

‘I’ve had worse’, Oswald said simply.

‘I suppose that’s true’, Ed mused.

Oswald put his empty glass on the counter and returned to the bed. He offered Ed the loaded dishcloth which Ed accepted gratefully. He sighed as he held it against his face.  
Oswald remained standing, looking towards the door.

‘So what now?’ Ed asked.

‘We hole up here for a while then when we’re ready to move, we leave’.

‘Together?’

‘It’s safer if we split up’, Oswald said immediately.

Ed knew Oswald had been anticipating the question just as he had been expecting the answer Oswald had given. He hadn’t expected to feel a small sad twinge in his chest.  
It was almost like disappointment.

‘And easier to get back to hating each other?’ Ed asked, that small, sad twinge seeming to dissolve into leaden weights in his stomach.

Oswald looked thoughtful, his eyes obviously not seeing the dark grain of the wooden floor they were pointing at.

‘I don’t hate you’.

That response, Ed had not expected and he could not suppress a single laugh of sheer disbelief.

‘Even after all those little shows I put on in the Narrows?’

‘Believe me, that nearly did the trick’.

‘But?’

‘But I know you. They weren’t about making me hate you. You were doing it to get my attention’.

Ed nodded.  
There was no point denying the truth. At first perhaps there had been frustration, venom and anger in the melodramatics. They were a defiant middle finger to Oswald: a reversal of the way Oswald had exhibited Ed like a caged animal. A chance for the animal to bite back.  
But this subtext had gradually faded into an impersonal routine that was performed simply because it was expected and appreciated by Cherry’s target audience. The animal had lost it’s teeth and just wanted someone to really see it for what it was.

Ed rubbed his temples.  
He wondered if he had a concussion, indulging in such fanciful metaphors.

‘It wouldn’t be the first time I’d been clumsy in trying to get that’, Ed admitted.

‘The first time was in the GCPD’.

‘You remember?’

‘Wouldn’t you remember some weirdo quoting penguin facts at you out of the blue?’

Ed laughed (more genuinely this time) and instantly regretted it. He placed a protective hand over his damaged ribs and winced.

‘You saved me that day in the woods’, Oswald said, pacing slowly, eyes on Ed, ‘And again at the election party. I hate owing anybody anything. That’s why I saved you’.

‘Well, taking the attempted murders into account, I’m ready to call it even aren’t you?’

Oswald stopped pacing.

‘You could have died back there’, Oswald said, ‘Why didn’t you lie to them? Save yourself?’

‘They weren’t interested in anything I had to say’, Ed shrugged, ‘They heard you got out of Arkham and were holding me because of what I am to you. Or what they thought I was’.

‘What did they think?’

‘You know that already. Are they wrong?’

Oswald started to pace again.

‘Depends on what they think’, he said in a tone that echoed with a deliberate lack of emotion.

‘They thought that you might still have feelings for me’.

Oswald stumbled slightly but recovered quickly.

‘What difference does that make?’

‘Well, I would hope I took these lumps for a genuine reason and not because of a mistaken assumption’.

‘And what if it was a mistake?’

There was no mistaking the undercurrent of challenge in Oswald’s voice despite his stoic demeanour.

‘How would it make you feel?’ Oswald added.

‘Stupid for taking this for starters’, Ed replied, reaching into his trouser pocket.

He held a small object up so Oswald could see it and it glinted as the light caught it’s milky surface.

‘Sofia’s earring’, Oswald identified, taking the pearl set in gold around in his fingers.

He was surprised there was no blood coating it but realised it must have been inadvertently cleaned while inside Ed’s mouth.

‘Pearls are an oyster’s way of coping with pain’, Ed said, watching, ‘They coat whatever undesirable penetrates their shell with a fluid called nacre and turn it into a pearl. Something beautiful out of something painful. Pearls come from the ocean. Penguins live in the ocean’.

‘What you’re saying is, you saw this and thought of me?’ Oswald asked, sitting on the bed.

‘Bingo’, Ed said and permitted himself a nasty smile, ‘And it’s not as if Sofia has anywhere to put it now’.

Oswald laughed, disarmed by the joke and by the fact that Ed had, for some reason, decided to bring him a present following a torture session. It was insane!  
But oddly charming. Flattering.

‘I looked at it a lot while they had me’, Ed continued, ‘It’s a trick keep my mind off pain: take refuge in cataloguing small details and drawing comparisons. Always worked for me’.

Oswald held the earring out to Ed but Ed used his hand to enclose it within Oswald’s fingers.

‘It’ll make a nice tie pin’, he said, ‘With the purple. If you still have it’.

‘I still have it’.

‘Good. Always liked that one’.

‘It’s why I kept it’, Oswald thought, ‘But also why I never wear it’.

Both men’s eyes were drawn instinctively overhead as there was a sudden, loud rumble of thunder. Heavy rain began to fall as if someone had turned on a tap at full pressure.

‘We’re stuck here’.

Oswald nodded. He knew Ed wasn’t asking a question.

‘For now’, he agreed.

‘I can think of worse places’.

Oswald nodded again.

‘You should lie down’, Ed said, ‘You need to rest your leg’.

‘I’m fine’.

‘Come closer’.

Oswald looked warily at Ed’s outstretched hand, his own fingers drumming on the top of his knees.

‘Please’, Ed asked, barely above a whisper.

Despite the softness of Ed’s voice (or perhaps because of it) Oswald couldn’t resist. Carefully, he lifted his bad leg onto the bed and lay with his back to Ed. There was a gap between them but Oswald could feel Ed’s warm breath on the back of his neck, making the tiny hairs there rise in response. Overhead the rain fell as ambient noise, making the room feel warm and enclosed. Safe.

‘Why do you make me want things I can’t have?’

Oswald felt the gentle touch of the breath carrying Ed’s words graze the shell of his ear.

‘I could ask you the same thing’, Oswald replied.

He froze as he felt Ed stir behind him and realised they were now lying flush, Ed’s head slightly above his own due to their height difference. Oswald tried to relax in case Ed mistook his surprise for disapproval but was worried any movement would ‘break the spell’.

‘But we can have this?’ Ed asked in an odd, almost timid voice.

Oswald raised a shaking hand and placed it on his own shoulder. After a few seconds, he felt Ed’s hand on his. His pulse was steady and the flesh not covered in bandaids was warm and soft as he squeezed Oswald’s fingers. Oswald could smell the faint tang of blood and Ed’s familiar, too long absent, scent, mingling into an aroma that was both calming and sensually enticing.

‘For as long as you like’, Oswald promised.


	29. This Is Why We Can't Have Nice Things

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Anonymous asked: 21. “Sometimes, being a complete nerd comes in handy. “28. This is why we can’t have nice things.” Your fics have been absolutely amazing for these prompts, and I am pretty sure your readers are determined to have you do the whole list, because if all the other readers are like me, they don’t want the fics coming from these prompts to end! Thank you for all the amazing work. <3
> 
> Anonymous said:Nygmobblepot with 7 and 32! 
> 
> Anonymous said:21 & 33 please. Or only 21 would be fine. Thank you very much <3 
> 
> atravesandoeluniverso said:15. “Was that supposed to hurt?”

‘You said we’d watch it together’.

Owsald’s fingers drummed on the arm of the couch. Ed was uttering a string of placating words from the other end of the phone but Oswald was only half listening. Always the same excuses.  
Oswald was usually forgiving of Ed’s pet projects, even admired how focused Ed could be when ‘in the zone’ but he had promised that tonight could be set aside for the two of them to relax together.  
And yet here Oswald was. Alone.  
Finally, he detected a lull in Ed’s frantic apology and spoke.

‘I know you don’t particularly care about it but I thought we could at least have one night together and-Yes, I know your work is important but I arranged this last week and you promised…Look forget the wine! You’re already late! Stop telling me not to worry!’

Oswald physically flinched at the sound of his own angry tone. He hadn’t meant to shout.  
He inhaled slowly and responded to Ed’s hesitant question.

‘Of course I trust you but the last time you went to pick up a bottle of wine you never came home, you could have died and you met…Look, just don’t. It’s okay. Forget it. Go back to your workshop. I said it’s okay. I’ll watch it myself’.

Oswald hung up and put the phone down. He lowered himself carefully onto the couch and placed his damaged leg on his usual footrest. In front of him, the opening titles of ‘Gotham’s Next Big Baker’ were rolling, the beaming contestants trying desperately to convey likeability in the two seconds of footage afforded to them in the intro.

‘That witch is probably going to walk away with the trophy anyway’, Oswald grumbled, folding his arms as one particular woman named Maggie smiled at the camera over a tray of perfect looking cupcakes.

Oswald detested her with relish.  
His favourite, Cassandra, had been banished during last week’s semi-final, her spot occupied by Maggie, who Oswald fondly referred to as ‘The Gingerbread Witch’ following an incident involving what he saw as her deliberate sabotage of Cassandra’s centrepiece four weeks ago when Maggie had removed it from the oven ‘by accident’ to make room for her own creation.  
Oswald knew it was foolish to take a baking competition so seriously but he loved watching the microcosm of intrigue, grand standing and diplomacy it represented. It helped him relax after doing the same things in a much more high stakes environment all day.  
Oswald also knew it was foolish to be so upset at Ed for not watching it with him. But was one night really too much to ask?!

When his phone buzzed as the final live competition began to draw to a close, Oswald ignored it at first, too busy watching the contestants bustle about trying to meet the exacting demands of the venerable judges within a time limit but when it buzzed insistently again, Oswald picked it up.  
He was surprised to find Ed had sent him an animated message.

‘Name the one herb used in all baking’, Oswald read aloud as the green text rolled along the screen and ended with a row of flashing, spinning question marks.

‘Time!’

Oswald’s eyes narrowed at the judge’s declaration of the end of the contest, his brain automatically drawing the link between the judge’s word and the answer to the riddle Ed had sent him.  
Thyme as in the herb.  
All baking needed time.

‘Are you watching this?’ Oswald texted back as the bakers took position beside their towering, creative cakes.

‘Did you get it?’ came the reply.

‘This isn’t one of your gameshows’, Oswald texted then added half-jokingly, ‘This is serious business’.

‘Just trust me. There’s a prize if you play’.

Oswald considered the offer and then, intrigued despite his annoyance at Ed, sent an affirmative reply.

Ed’s next riddle came quickly.

‘A task that is effortless or certain to be accomplished’.

‘A cakewalk’, Oswald texted back immediately, watching the screen for further clues.

There was a musical chime and a green smiley face beamed up at him from the phone screen as the camera on the television lingered pointedly on a cake with a card in front of it. The card had a green question mark on it.

Oswald laughed out loud at Ed’s sheer audacity when he saw it.  
He also didn’t overlook the fact that the cake sitting behind the card featured a still scene of penguins iceskating. One was wearing a purple tie and was standing beside a taller, bespectacled penguin.  
The panel and the contestants, oblivious to the cake, carried on with their scripted (but not too scripted) judging.

‘Especially when they don’t pay their cameramen or security very well’, Ed texted, the smugness nearly audible.

‘Are you actually there?’ Oswald replied, ‘What are you doing?’

‘It’s a surprise. Next one: A rather unkind phrase to describe a woman past her prime’.

‘Christmas cake’, Oswald said sourly as Maggie appeared on screen, walking to the judging table like a galleon in full sail, her head tilted haughtily.  
Apparently she seemed confident she had won already.

Another musical chime from the phone.

‘She certainly is’, Ed observed, ‘Ready for the final round?’

‘Bring it on’.

‘What is the cake?’

‘A lie’, Oswald replied automatically, Ed’s love of video games and their associate references ingrained in his pop culture subconscious.

This time the musical chime came from the TV.  
The judges and the contestants had two seconds to look around, confused at the intrusive noise before it happened.  
Somehow, Maggie’s cake exploded with the force of a small stack of C4, blasting her and the judges with cake, coating their clothes in icing and chocolate. As they staggered, some clasping hands to their ears from the loud klaxon that had accompanied the detonation, the innocent looking penguin cake was propelled into the air via a hidden spring beneath it.  
It sailed through the air in a way that real penguins could never hope to and landed squarely on Maggie’s iron grey, perfectly arranged bun, spattering her even further, one miraculously untouched penguin perching on the crown of her head.Her lip began to quiver unpleasantly.

The cameras abruptly cut to black with an error message as Oswald burst into helpless laughter, the image of Maggie’s horrified and confused face etched into the back of his eyelids.

‘This is why we can’t have nice things in Gotham’, came a voice.

Oswald got up to see Ed standing in the doorway, looking immensely pleased with himself.  
Oswald went over to him and hugged him as Ed ruffled Oswald’s hair fondly. Oswald inhaled deeply.  
How could he ever have been mad at such a wonderful man?

‘I didn’t know you could bake’, Oswald commented, drawing back, ‘I knew you could cook but not that’.

‘It’s not that different from chemistry’, Ed shrugged, ’I make a point to know a little bit of everything’.

His demeanour became sheepish, subdued,

‘Including when to apologise’.

‘You hijacked my favourite show as an apology? By the way, was that little lightshow supposed to hurt them or-’

‘No! No. I didn’t have a lot of time to plan. But I brought you this to make up for that. Just in case you were disappointed’, Ed said, ducking behind the door frame.

Oswald shook his head smiling at what Ed presented to him.

It was a slice of penguin cake. A copy of the two penguins representing him and Ed standing on white icing. A heart made of candy pebbles were arranged at their feet.

‘The other one was a stunt cake’, Ed added, pointing to the TV.

Oswald laughed, feeling surprisingly emotional over a lifeless piece of confectionary.  
He accepted the cake gratefully and both of them headed for the couch.

‘I got the video game reference by the way’, Oswald said.

‘Well, on TV you need to appeal to every demographic don’t you?’

‘I guess sometimes being a complete nerd comes in handy’, Oswald teased lightly.

‘Not if it gets in the way of what’s important’.

Oswald felt the warmth of Ed’s hand on his knee, stroking gently.

‘I know I’ve been working a lot recently and…’

‘It’s okay Ed. Really. Yes, I was mad at you but you didn’t have to assault an innocent yet insufferable woman with cake to prove you care’.

‘I felt it was important to ‘prove’ it’.

He raised an eyebrow meaningfully at the word ‘prove’ and Oswald grimaced.

‘As in-‘ Ed began.

‘Baking yes. Thanks. I thought riddles were your gimmick, not puns’, Oswald chided.

‘You know what they say’, Ed replied, producing a fork from his sleeve like a magician unveiling a trail of scarves with a flourish, ‘Have your cake and eat it’.

Oswald ignored it and, using one long finger, traced the tip in the white icing.  
He tilted his head back and gently inserted his finger all the way down to the last knuckle into his mouth. He kept his eyes locked on Ed from beneath his lashes as he sucked on his own finger obscenely for a few seconds then licked his moist lips like a cat sipping cream.  
He smirked as Ed swallowed hard at the display and adjusted his glasses with shaking fingers.

‘Perhaps I’m in the mood for something sweeter?’ Oswald purred.


	30. Vampire!Oswald Part 1

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Anonymous asked: Hi, I love your works! How about some vampire Oswald? Context of which is up to you! Maybe Ed accidentally finds out about it, stumbling upon him feeding... but I'm happy with whatever you write tbh :D

Ed shook his head.  
It didn’t make any sense.   
He closed Penguin’s pyjama shirt and sat back on the bed, analysing his patient’s condition. Penguin lay still and unmoving, his face white and chapped lips pale. His heartbeat was so slow Ed could barely detect it and his body temperature had plummeted. And yet the bullet wound Ed had been treating just the day before was nearly completely healed: a dark, bruise like impression the only sign it had ever existed on Penguin’s cold skin.  
Ed hesitantly touched Penguin’s hand and his eyes narrowed. His flesh felt almost hard, as if rigor mortis had begun to set in.   
Ed didn’t need his qualification in forensic science to know something was amiss. Even a fresh corpse didn’t cool that quickly.  
He reached into the bedside drawer and took out a small flashlight.  
He took hold of Penguin’s eyelids, noting the lack of reflexive movement as his fingertips neared. He also saw the lids were not fully closed as he physically opened Penguin’s eye wider. He shone the light into it and was startled to see that Penguin’s eyes, formerly a feverish bright pale green had clouded over, his pupils completely unresponsive to the light.

Ed nearly jumped when Penguin gave an audible, hoarse sounding exhalation, lips opening slightly. What Ed saw in Penguin’s mouth made him freeze.  
Penguin’s canine teeth were visibly lengthening and sharpening. They glistened wetly as they finished growing and Ed became aware that Penguin’s breath was beginning to rattle.   
Taking on the quality of a low growl.

Ed swallowed hard and looked at Penguin’s face to find the eyes of a corpse glaring back at him, a dreadful hunger animating Penguin’s pallid features as he began to rise. Ed knew he should move but found he couldn’t. He felt like a rodent under the lethal spell of a descending bird of prey.   
His brain told him this was impossible. Vampires (his brain had no other word to describe what he was seeing) didn’t exist.   
As he felt Penguin take hold of his shoulders, cruel, curved talons where his fingernails had once been pricking him through the thin material of his shirt, Ed thought it must be a hallucination.  
Penguin’s breath was impossibly hot on Ed’s neck as the vampire drew nearer, enfolding Ed in his arms with surprising tenderness. Ed found himself tilting his head back, granting Oswald a better penetration point. He didn’t know why, it just seemed like the right thing to do.   
Ed tensed and exhaled shakily as he felt Penguin trace a vein on his neck with a hot tongue, lathing it like a grooming cat. He closed his eyes and breathed deeply. This was the right thing to do. Penguin needed this to get better. Vampires needed blood to live.  
The world erupted into a red haze of pain as Penguin sank his teeth into his neck and Ed felt himself drifting away into darkness, hoping feverishly Penguin would know when to stop.

Oswald woke up and was startled at how good he felt. He sat up and quickly examined his hands. He sighed in relief when he saw a lack of claws but just to be safe, he ran a finger along his teeth. Blunt and distinctly human in texture.  
His relief evaporated however when he lowered his finger and saw it was coated in blood. Wiping his mouth hastily with the back of his pyjama shirt, he was dismayed to find it similarly covered with blood.   
He cast a glance around the room and realised he was being stared at.

Edward Nygma, the man who had saved him from the woods was sitting in a nearby armchair, watching him in silence. Oswald noted the thick bandage on his neck. His heart began to pound which confirmed his worst assumptions. It only beat like that after a fresh feeding.

‘Feeling better?’

‘Wh-what?’ Oswald asked, taken aback by Nygma’s conversational tone.

‘You’re looking more like yourself’, Nygma said, coming over to sit on the bed.

Oswald shuffled back only to have his back hit the headboard.

‘Relax’, Nygma said smiling, ‘Your secret’s safe with me’.

‘You let me…’ Oswald began but then cleared his throat, debating how to broach the delicate topic.

Ed decided to let the semantics of the word ‘let’ drop. There was no point holding Penguin’s instincts over his head. The way he was physically squirming in discomfort was enough evidence that he had not meant to ‘help himself’. Besides, Ed was more curious than anything.  
Looking at Penguin now, there was no physical sign he was anything other than human. Ed had watched him revert while unconscious, the animalistic features gradually fading away once his primal hunger had been satisfied.

‘Is your saliva some form of coagulant?’ Ed asked, deciding an easy question with a simple ‘yes’ or ‘no’ answer was the best place to start.

‘Excuse me?’

Ed removed his bandage, exposing the two neat marks on his neck. The puncture marks Penguin’s teeth had inflicted were nearly fully healed, two reddened circles of skin the only sign anything had happened.

‘They don’t even hurt’, Ed said brightly, ‘I assume you’re feeling better too?’

‘Look friend I-‘

‘Ed. Please’.

‘Ed’, Oswald said, deciding that his saviour had at least earned the right to his chosen appellation, ‘I’m sorry you had to see me like-that is, I apologise for taking advantage-no that’s not it…just, I’m sorry’.

‘Apology accepted. To be honest it was kind of exciting’.

‘Really?’

‘Will I need a tetanus shot?’

‘Um, I don’t think so’.

‘Is it because you don’t carry bacteria or viruses?’

Oswald nodded, confused by Ed’s lackadaisical reaction to being fed on.

‘I thought so’, Ed mused, eyes distant as he ruminated, ‘Your body temperature is dependent on the amount of blood you consume. Obviously not a very hospitable environment for bacteria commonly found in a human body. What about your heartbeat? It was within the acceptable parameters for a someone suffering the effects of exposure and hunger when I found you but then it began to slow. Is that also linked to your plasma intake?’

‘You ask a lot of questions’, Oswald commented, dumb founded by the barrage of Ed’s theorising.

This was not the response he had expected to get from someone discovering they had been harbouring a vampire under their roof. Then again, Ed hadn’t hesitated to help Oswald when he had thought he had just been a human murderer and criminal.

‘Sorry about the interrogation’, Ed said with a smile, ‘It’s just, I’ve never met a vampire before’.

‘I’ve never seen someone so happy to meet a vampire before’, Oswald half joked, wary of the unusual situation.

‘Sorry about asking another question but how often do you need to feed? Might need to know for later’.

‘Once every day’.

‘It didn’t feel like you’d been doing that’.

‘I thought I’d be able to hunt some small animals in the woods’, Oswald explained, indicating his shoulder, ‘But I was too weak to catch them. I didn’t expect to be here so long’.

‘Is animal blood okay?’

‘It’s what I usually take’.

‘Can you eat normal food as well?’

‘I prefer it. The blood is like a supplement. I need it to pass as human’.

‘I always thought vampires were impervious to bullets? Unless they were silver’.

‘A well fed vampire trades invulnerability for the ability to move in sunlight and pass as human. It’s why my shoulder took so long to heal. What you…experienced, was a vampire reduced to its most basic instincts. My wound healed itself to help me get stronger and kill prey more…easily’.

Oswald clamped his jaw shut, regretting his blunt words. He hadn’t meant to say so much. Ed didn’t seem to notice.

‘Interesting. But then why is your leg still damaged? I checked once you’d passed out and it didn’t heal’.

Oswald’s hand strayed to his knee self consciously.

‘Because injuries caused by another vampire tend to stick’, he said bitterly, ‘Especially if they mean it’.

‘There are other vampires?’

‘Someone had to make me’.

Ed touched his neck self-consciously.

‘Don’t worry’, Oswald hastily said, ‘The bite doesn’t do it on its own’.

‘How did it feel?’ Ed asked.

Oswald’s brow furrowed at the question and he thought hard, trying to think of how to describe the sensation. He knew a lot of vampires equated it to sex but having never had sex, Oswald had no frame of reference.

‘How did it feel when I bit you?’ Oswald asked.

‘It hurt a bit at first’, Ed confessed, ‘But then it felt really…intense. Like the world was falling away and the only thing I could hear was my heartbeat. It was as if it was just you and I, alone in the warmth. It was…’

Ed halted in his reverie, cheeks colouring at the memory of the experience.  
After the initial sharp pain of Oswald’s teeth, Ed had been consumed by an arousal greater than any he had ever experienced. A barely audible, logical part of his brain theorised that this was perhaps a side effect of the feeding to ensure the victim did not try to pull away. Ed’s eyelids had fluttered as Oswald began to suck. Who would ever want to escape from this? Ed’s heartbeat had been loud in his ears and his hips had begun to buck automatically in time with Oswald’s sucks, his skin goose pimpled and every nerve ending alight with sheer pleasure. Ed could only incongruously describe it as sheer savage tenderness. He had never felt so intimate, so cared for.  
When Oswald had let go of his neck, tongue lashing like a serpent’s, he had fastened his lips to Ed’s and kissed him deeply. Ed had tasted his own blood in his mouth and had moaned as Oswald’s claws had shrunk back into human fingernails, tracing smoothly along his skin as they did so.  
Overwhelmed by the sheer eroticism of what he had just experienced and the naked desire in Oswald’s kiss, Ed had climaxed, body spasming as Oswald had fallen back, insensate onto the pillow. Ed, shaking and overwhelmed had gone to the bathroom and cleaned himself then set about countering the effects of the blood loss.  
Even in Ed’s weakened state, he had noticed Oswald had only taken enough to sustain himself and he had recovered quickly during the three hours Oswald had slept.

Seeking to avoid causing Oswald further embarrassment, Ed censored his description.

‘It wasn’t painful I swear’.

Oswald nodded, absorbing the description. He could sense Ed was keeping something back but did not press the issue. He had no right to pry.

‘Do you have a preference for the kind of blood you like to drink?’

‘After a proper feeding session like that, I should be fine with raw meat for now’, Oswald said, ‘Whatever you can get is fine’.

‘Steak it is then’, Ed said, ‘I have some in the freezer. Not wooden, promise’.

Oswald burst out laughing but then caught himself. He usually suppressed such open displays of emotion, mostly because of a conscious fear he would accidentally reveal his fangs in an unguarded moment but also because he always had to maintain a carefully cultivated façade. But, perhaps because he had just shared something so intimate with Ed, it was easy to laugh.  
It felt good to see Ed was laughing too but then he stopped, his eyes lighting up.

‘Can you turn into a bat?!’ Ed asked excitedly.

Oswald shook his head fondly, a warm feeling of gratitude completely eclipsing his usual annoyance with questions. Coming from Ed, they didn’t seem invasive. They seemed…endearing.

‘Who would want to?’ Oswald exclaimed, making a disgusted face.


	31. Vampire!Oswald Part 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Anonymous asked: 11, 43 and 82 with vampire Oswald if thats okay!
> 
> sunaddicted said:66. “Why me?” + Nygmobblepot? I love your writing ♡ 
> 
> Anonymous said:I’m so glad you’re still doing these! Your ficlets are so beautiful. How about some hurt/comfort with the following: 25, 39, 82 & 86? I’d love if it was Edward comforting Oswald

‘Can’t sleep either?’

Oswald shrugged and continued staring at the droplets pattering in the nearby birdbath. Ed sat beside him on the bench, both of them sheltered from the downpour by the sturdy gazebo overhead. The full moon was eclipsed by the heavy clouds but the lights of the mansion bathed the garden in a yellow, eerie light.

‘Just wanted some fresh air’, Oswald said unconvincingly.

‘It’s been an exciting evening’, Ed joked half-heartedly, wincing as his neck twinged.

Oswald gave a humourless laugh.

‘Exciting? Is that what you call it?’

‘What’s wrong Oswald?’

‘What the hell were you thinking throwing yourself in front of me like that?!’ Oswald snapped.

‘I couldn’t risk you reacting to Butch’s attack yourself’, Ed explained calmly, ‘There were too many cameras’.

He saw Oswald shake his head but knew Oswald knew he was right. Now that Oswald was mayor, it was vital that nobody discovered his true nature. Gotham was more tolerant of eccentricities than most other places but, whilst they may accept a known criminal as their mayor, a vampire was another matter entirely.  
If Butch had managed to grab Oswald, Ed knew Oswald’s vampiric instincts would have kicked in and a literal bloodbath would have ensued. Bad press was one thing but a mob wielding torches and pitchforks had been another possible outcome.

‘But I wouldn’t have been in danger!’ Oswald countered, fists clenched, ‘I could have stopped him. You shouldn’t have gotten hurt. I’m supposed to be faster than that!’

Ed nodded, absorbing the logic. He had been reflecting on that point while lying awake in bed. He prided himself on his logic, his ability to make well informed decisions. Throwing himself in the way of a much larger enemy’s attack on a nigh invulnerable predator made very little sense when analysed.

‘Honestly, I didn’t think about any of that at the time’.

‘I thought so’, Oswald said, rubbing his eyes wearily.

Ed felt crestfallen to see Oswald so worried. He had assumed their conversation on the couch earlier that night had drawn a line under the matter. Ed’s throat had been the reason he had found it hard to sleep but Oswald’s insomnia seemed to be because of self-recrimination.

‘When you left me on the couch earlier, you weren’t as okay as you pretended to be, were you?’

Oswald pretended to be interested in a continuous drip falling from the edge of the gazebo’s roof, his heart hammering.   
No, he was not okay. He was in love.   
He had been able to ignore it before tonight but his utter relief at seeing Ed safe had shattered every barrier he had erected against it. On that couch, gazing into Ed’s eyes, he had wanted nothing more than to kiss him, to tell him how much he meant to him. But he hadn’t. Instead he had embraced him and let go too soon, making an excuse he didn’t even remember to withdraw upstairs to his solitary room. To Oswald, the wonder and happiness of his discovery was overpowered by the absurdity of it. Vampires didn’t fall in love! They were supposed to be above such things.  
But then, why did it hurt so much to think about Ed being hurt because of his weakness? Humans were expendable servants: there were billions of them after all. Ed shouldn’t matter.  
And yet he did. He was all that mattered to Oswald.

‘Don’t ever do it again’, Oswald ordered sternly to disguise his anxiety, ‘I can’t do this on my own’.

Ed nodded and they sat in silence once more. Overhead thunder rumbled.

‘Oswald, are we friends?’

‘How could you ask me that after just saving my life?!’

‘It’s just, I’ve been reading that apparently vampires have the ability to hypnotise people into doing what they want (even without knowing it) and, just what happened tonight, feels-‘

‘Ed, I would never enthrall you! Even the idea of it makes me cringe! Maybe other vampires like having mindless slaves to fawn over them but not me!’

Ed opened then closed his mouth, unsure how to respond to Oswald’s stricken expression. He hadn’t meant to insinuate anything!

‘I’m sorry’, he said gently, ‘I didn’t mean to insult you’.

He chuckled in an attempt at humour.

‘It was a stupid question anyway: if you had hypnotised me I wouldn’t be wondering about it’.

'Why ask me at all?’ Oswald asked in a small voice, ‘Do you think I’m lying to you about being friends?’

'No!’ Ed protested, cursing ever having mentioned anything, ‘I guess I’m just wondering…’

He exhaled sharply and just spat it out.

‘Just, why me? Why choose to be friends with someone like me when you can have anyone you want?’

Oswald chose his words carefully. No, to him, Ed was not a friend. He was much more. But if being friends was what Ed wanted, all that Ed wanted, Oswald would be content with that.

'All those 'anyones’ aren’t you. Do you really think so little of yourself?’

Ed looked thoughtful and sad.

'Having such a strong, instinctive desire to protect-‘ he began but then seemed to catch himself.

He cleared his throat and suddenly began to clean his glasses. Oswald stayed silent, trying to get his heart rate under control.

‘I’ve never felt anything like it’, Ed said, wonder in his voice as he replaced his glasses, ‘I just wanted to make sure it was all me, that’s all. It just doesn’t seem real’.

‘I can prove it to you’, Oswald offered, ‘But, to do that, I need to…’

Ed exposed his neck automatically.

'But the bruises-’ Oswald began.

'It means the blood’s easier to get to. Please’, Ed interjected, a small smile on his face, 'I want you to do it. I want to know how you feel’.

Oswald embraced him once more, Ed’s scent warm and comforting as he laid his chin on his shoulder. Oswald felt Ed shiver beneath his fingertips as he placed a hand on the back of his head, drawing him closer. Oswald could smell the warm blood flowing through Ed’s veins, the intoxicating rhythm becoming harder and harder to resist. He marvelled at the arousal creeping through his system. The act of feeding had always been purely mechanical to Oswald: no more erotic than opening a can of soup. Other vampires had always seemed to enjoy it much more than he did, gorging themselves and gasping as they drained their prey dry lips bright red as their backs arched. Oswald had always found the sight vulgar and pointlessly hedonistic.  
But, with Ed…Oswald could understand. He didn’t know why.  
All he knew was Ed was irresistible to him.  
Oswald licked his lips and felt his tongue glide over his lengthening canine teeth.

'Just breathe okay?’ Oswald said thickly, eyelids fluttering as his lips traced Ed’s flesh.

Ed tilted his head back and closed his eyes, heart fluttering at the warm of Oswald’s breath over the faint scars of previous puncture wounds. Oswald kissed Ed’s neck, preparing to bite. Ed knew Oswald was using his saliva to act as an anaesthetic, but the sheer intimacy of the action made warmth flood through his system. He held Oswald close, reassuring him that he wanted this.

‘Do it’, Ed whispered and gasped as Oswald’s fangs pierced his neck without further ceremony.

This time though, Ed was not carried away on a wave of mindless bliss as he rode out Oswald’s feeding. This time, Ed was startled to see images flash before his eyes like reflections in water. Instead of the gazebo roof, he saw hazy images of memories flickering one after the other like a film reel. And with them came sensations and feelings magnified many times. Ed moaned as he realised all of the images were of he and Oswald and some of them were his own memories and feelings. He felt a tear trail down his cheek as he realised he and Oswald’s feelings were the same.

Loneliness.  
Friendship.  
Warmth.  
Intimacy.  
Realization.  
Fear.  
Acceptance.  
Love.

Ed felt a cold breeze on his neck. Reaching up, he felt the pinpricks left by Oswald’s teeth sealing once more. He looked at Oswald, shocked by the revelation. Oswald was not looking at him.   
Oswald never looked at him after feeding.

'Did that feel real?’ Oswald asked apprehensively.

His eyes widened as he felt he felt Ed grab hold of his face. Before he knew what was happening, he felt the gentle pressure and heat of Ed’s lips on his. Oswald sighed as he finally gave in to his desire, all his doubts and fears eclipsed by the sheer erotic experience of his first kiss.

Ed thrilled as he felt Oswald’s lips part. He marvelled at the coppery tang of his own blood and the sharp tickle of Oswald’s still lengthened teeth on the surface of his tongue. Oswald’s sharp nails traced along his scalp as he held him and Ed felt his hips buck automatically as Oswald sucked hard on his tongue. The hunger and naked desire in Oswald’s body language was exquisite. Ed had never felt such desire before. Such passion.

As they slowly parted, gasping through swollen lips, Ed watched Oswald’s half hooded eyes fade from a blood red back to their normal pale green. Ed touched Oswald’s cheek, wondering at how warm it felt and the knowledge that it was because of him. Oswald had not taken nearly as much as he usually did and yet his cheeks were practically glowing. It was beautiful.

'You have no idea how much I want you right now’, Ed breathed.

'Yes I do’, Oswald whispered shakily, feeling treacherous tears beginning to gather in his eyes.

‘On the couch, you wanted more than a hug’, Ed said softly, using a thumb to wipe away Oswald’s tears.

Oswald knew it wasn’t a question. Thanks to the telepathy, Ed knew everything now. But Oswald still felt he had to confess. He had to make sure Ed understood.

‘I was scared that I would ruin what we had’, Oswald said, ‘That-that you wouldn’t want someth…someone like me’.

‘Don’t be scared’, Ed said, drawing him close once more, ‘I’m right here and I’m not going anywhere’.


	32. Vampire!Oswald Part 3 (NSFW!)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Anonymous said:  
> NSFW Vampire!Oswald please!!  
> Anonymous said:  
> okay so I'm up for either nsfw or angst for vampire!oswald (bonus I guess if Ed offers his neck/blood to Oswald or if Oswald hungers/is desperate)!! also I'm? so happy you're still writing ficlets for this au?? I adore your writing so much  
> ishipa-lot-of-stuff said:  
> Vampire Oswald finding out how his bite effects ed? Maybe he catches Ed jerking off after?  
> Anonymous said:  
> I need more Vampire!Oswald, STAT!

Oswald leant his head against the side of the pigeon coop and sighed heavily, shame prickling along his clammy skin. Overhead thunder clouds rumbled, the night air feeling close and thick due to the gathering storm. The streets of the Narrows were empty, the denizens already sheltering from the imminent downpour. Oswald would have to go back inside as well to avoid getting soaked.  
He hoped Ed would be tending to the wound on his arm.  
The wound Oswald had caused.

Oswald still wasn’t quite sure what had happened.  
One moment he and Ed had just been kissing: gentle pecks as usual while snuggling together in bed. Their courtship had not progressed beyond chaste kisses and Oswald was grateful for Ed’s consideration of his inexperience. They had seen each other naked (after all Ed had seen Oswald naked all those months before when he had rescued him from the woods) and enjoyed sleeping in the nude together but Oswald was not in a rush to escalate things.  
But for some reason, during their make out session, Oswald had remembered the sight of Ed’s bloody mouth that day on the docks. The way it had glistened on Ed’s teeth when he had smiled and the tang of it on Oswald’s tongue as they had shared their first halting kiss on the pier after he had saved Ed from Sofia’s thugs. He wondered if that was how Ed would look if he were a vampire?  
The image had ramped up the pleasurable warmth that had been building inside Oswald to a rampant, throbbing heat and he had deepened the kiss automatically, moaning as he felt his length begin to tent his trousers.  
Ed had responded enthusiastically, his fingers entwining in Oswald’s hair, dragging him closer and closer.  
Oswald had chased the sensations, luxuriating in this new, deeper and somehow more meaningful kind of hunger than what he usually experienced. It felt good to indulge, to be rough, to let go…  
The next thing he knew he was holding Ed down, fingers clamped on Ed’s shoulders as he ravished his mouth, their tongues dancing in the wet heat, sending thunderbolts through Oswald’s body and-Then Ed had given a startled cry of pain and Oswald had halted immediately.  
Looking down, he had seen that his nails had transformed into curved claws and pierced Ed’s arm. Blood pooled beneath the points and Oswald had let go immediately.  
As he had looked around for something to help with the wound, Oswald had caught a glimpse of his reflection in the mirror. It was an old wife’s tale that vampires had no reflections at all and what Oswald had seen in the glass had smashed through the pleasant haze dragging him immediately back to cold reality.  
In the midst of his delirium, he had accidentally dropped his human glamour revealing his real vampiric face.  
Seeing his monstrous face revealed and Ed’s widened eyes beneath him, Oswald had leapt from the bed and instantly fled the room. He had run out into the darkness where monsters like him belonged. 

Oswald had reached the roof before his panic had receded and he realised that he had been wrong to flee. Ed’s welfare mattered, not Oswald’s panicked indulgence of his shame. So, Oswald had tried to calm down by counting to ten with deep breaths inhaled through the nose and exhaled through the mouth before returning inside to face Ed. In the process, he had come to a startling revelation.  
He was in heat.  
Oswald knew there was no other reason for the severity of the reaction he had just experienced. The predatory fixation on domination and drive to mate had been nearly overpowering. Oswald had never experienced such desire before as a human or a vampire. When his heat period had come around previously it had been akin to a nagging itch to be scratched, not something to be enjoyed. Oswald had always satisfied himself in the past, feeling uncomfortable yet relieved when he climaxed. Was the sensation he had felt earlier what humans and vampires felt every time they were sexually aroused? It seemed exhausting!  
Unsure what to think about this, he focused his preternatural senses to check if Ed was alright before heading back inside.  
Only to detect Ed’s heartbeat pounding like the hammers of Hell.

Worried, Oswald instantly transformed into a cloud of mist and flew down the side of the building and in through Ed’s open bedroom window. As he drifted past the curtains billowing in the warm night air, he was startled at the sight that greeted him.  
Ed was naked amidst the mussed blankets, pyjamas discarded on the floor and legs akimbo, his pale flesh illuminated by the neon green sign outside his apartment window. He was thrusting two glistening fingers in and out of his ass, his cock painfully erect as he bucked his hips, groaning. Ed raised his injured arm and Oswald watched, enraptured as Ed licked the bloody trail like a cat grooming, his lithe arm outstretched and fingers spread. Ed’s Adam’s apple bobbed as he swallowed the few droplets he had taken and Oswald swallowed hard in unison.  
He knew for certain now.  
The hunger he had felt earlier was nothing to do with blood. It was everything to do with Ed.  
Oswald wanted Ed. Wanted him in a way he had never wanted anyone else.

‘Hold me’, Ed said, staring right at Oswald’s miasmic form.

Oswald was so surprised at Ed addressing him that he lost focus and resumed his normal shape automatically. 

‘Oswald, hold me’, Ed repeated, his pleading audible even over the rumbling thunder overhead.

Oswald moved towards the bed as if hypnotised.

‘Please…help me finish’, Ed whispered desperately as Oswald crawled onto the bed, ‘Please’.

Ed tilted his head back onto the pillow, a dark blue vein livid against the white flesh illuminated as lightning flashed outside and, removing his fingers from his entrance, took hold of his cock. 

Oswald obeyed.  
The way Ed was gazing up at him, he couldn’t help it. To have someone practically beg for his caress, plead for him to indulge his hunger, was too much to resist.  
As he sank his teeth into Ed’s waiting neck and felt Ed spasm, milky cum shining in the moonlight as he ejaculated, Oswald closed his eyes, trying desperately to reconcile the drive to feed with the much deeper desire awakening inside him.

A few moments later, they were lying in bed side by side, fully clothed and Ed bearing a fresh bandage on his neck. Rain hammered down outside, only serving to highlight how comfortable and safe the bed seemed. Oswald lay with his head resting on Ed’s chest, listening to Ed’s heartbeat.  
It was calmer now. Content. Peaceful.

‘How’d you know I was there?’ Oswald asked.  
His voice sounded loud in the mellow darkness.

‘I always know’, Ed replied, the trace of a smile in his words, ‘I wanted you to see’.

‘See what?’

‘How much I want you’.

Oswald touched Ed’s arm wound meaningfully. Ed smiled and placed a hand over Oswald’s squeezing it reassuringly. 

‘You’re sure?’ Oswald asked quietly.

‘I trust you Oswald’, Ed said softly, ‘Fear is no excuse not to try. That is, if you want me the same way? Because if you don’t it’s okay-’

‘I do! I know I do. I just want you to be safe’.

‘Don’t worry’, Ed said, steepling his fingers and gazing at the ceiling as he set his formidable brain to the task, 'I have some ideas’.

**

Thus, a date was set and preparations began. 

Ed drew up a rigorous diet plan of red meat, kidney, liver, leafy green vegetables, eggs and legumes for himself to increase his red blood count. They had decided to include a bite and a small feeding session for Oswald in their lovemaking. Both because Ed genuinely enjoyed the sensation and because of Ed’s theory that Oswald trying to suppress his instincts was a worse idea than allowing him to mate the way vampires were supposed to. Vampires were fundamentally predators and as such mated enthusiastically with an emphasis on dominance and displays of strength. Whilst Ed trusted Oswald implicitly, he also didn’t want their desire for safe coitus to completely override the atmosphere and special significance of the act. He didn’t want it to be akin to a chore.  
Ed also visited his doctor for a physical to ensure his body would be healthy enough to take whatever Oswald could dish out and received a clean bill of health.

Meanwhile, Oswald got into the habit of clipping his claws daily to avoid further accidents and made sure he fed well on human blood purchased surreptitiously from blood banks in the month leading up to the date they had agreed for their first time to help dampen his hunger. He also researched human mating positions and etiquette: after all he had not bothered with them when he had been human and had been even less concerned with them as a vampire before meeting Ed. He familiarised himself with them quickly and hoped he would be able to perform when the time came without getting carried away. He also hoped he would feel something akin to the strong instinctual pull he had felt before with Ed rather than the polite disinterest he unfailingly felt while researching the mechanics of mating. He didn’t understand how pornography films and magazines excited human males when Oswald just felt as if he were studying for a test. Nevertheless, he persevered.  
Ed’s happiness and sexual satisfaction were worth the hours of watching monotonous, vulgar, gyrating flesh in varying positions.

**

‘Remember, the safe word is ‘umbrella’’, Ed said, throwing his briefs outside of the blanket.

‘I remember’, Oswald confirmed, getting into position so he and Ed were lying beside each other.

Despite Oswald’s nervousness at what lay ahead, as soon as he felt Ed’s warm hand on his skin, he felt himself melting into Ed’s touch. Ed always knew just how to touch him: to make him feel safe and warm. Almost alive.

‘Just before we start’, Ed said, ‘Can I ask you something?’

‘Always’.

‘Can I see you? Like you were the other night?’

‘Why?’ Oswald asked, his wariness self evident from the way he stiffened. Like an animal about to bolt.

‘I want you to know you don’t ever have to hide from me’.

‘Just-just for a moment, alright? Don’t want my teeth getting in the way once we…get going’.

‘I understand’.

‘I trust you Ed’, Oswald said.

Ed nodded solemnly, and, with a final squeeze of Ed’s hand, Oswald dropped his glamour.

‘Fascinating’, Ed breathed, his analytical mind committing every one of Oswald’s unveiled physical traits to memory, ‘May I?’

Oswald nodded and Ed reached out a hand to stroke Oswald’s cheek. He smiled fondly as he saw the porcelain skin blush beneath his fingertips. Despite the warmth of the blood Oswald had consumed, Oswald’s skin felt cooler and harder than human skin, like marble hidden beneath a soft, velvet like veneer. His eyes were still the same colour but his pupils had narrowed to those of a cat’s, an obvious sign of his superior dark vision. Ed marvelled at the lethality in Oswald’s natural face. His eyes were as fierce as a bird of prey’s and his claws shone in the dim light from where his hands were resting in his lap. His sharp canine teeth barely poked beneath his top lip, akin to a tantalising peek at the perfect predator Oswald truly was inside.  
Ed thought he was beautiful. Then again, he had always thought that.

Ed used both hands to caress Oswald’s face and was rewarded with a small hiss as Oswald leant into his touch, rubbing his face against the heels of Ed’s open palms as Ed ruffled his hair. Ed, gratified that his strategy had successfully helped Oswald relax, leant in for a gentle kiss. Just as Oswald had said, he resumed his glamour, his teeth shrinking away behind his parting lips.

Just like the night when Oswald had lost control, the kiss swiftly deepened into a more savage kiss. Both fought for dominance as Ed nibbled Oswald’s lips and Oswald sucked hard on Ed’s tongue. After a few minutes, they broke the kiss, breathing hard, pupils blown and mouths bruised.

‘You’re delicious’, Oswald purred, running his tongue along Ed’s jawline.

‘You haven’t sampled the best parts of me yet’, Ed whispered into Oswald’s ear.

He laid his head against the pillow and tilted his chin up, feeling the usual shiver of anticipation as Oswald’s eyes alighted on his exposed, vulnerable neck.  
Oswald’s lips caressed the vein with a tender kiss and Ed felt as much as heard the whispered words ‘I love you’ before the pain of penetration by Oswald’s teeth.

The pain vanished almost immediately, replaced by the usual, mindless bliss Ed always felt when Oswald fed on him. He felt as if he were floating on a warm wave that built and built as Oswald’s ‘attentions’ deepened. It was like getting drunk without any of the unpleasant side effects: a relaxing haze that also sent shivers down your spine and electrified the pleasure centres. Ed could feel his cock pulse in time with the heartbeat growing louder in his ears. Oswald’s hands were gentle as they held him in place, his fingers combing through Ed’s hair comfortingly, cradling him in a deep embrace. Ed’s own hand strayed to his cock, barely pumping it: just enough friction to make him hungry for more.  
Regardless of his self imposed restrictions, when Ed could feel a familiar coiling sensation beginning in his stomach, he hurriedly patted Oswald’s shoulder.

‘Ah! Umbrella!’ Ed gasped, shuddering at the sudden rush of cool air on his skin as Oswald stopped feeding immediately.

‘Did I hurt you?’ Oswald asked, his concern obvious despite his deliberately casual tone.

Ed kissed Oswald’s cheek, catching a glimpse of his reflection in Oswald’s bright, blood red eyes. He tasted blood in his mouth and realised he had accidentally got some of the blood from the corner of Oswald’s mouth in his own. Ed smiled: it looked as if Oswald had clumsily applied bright red lipstick.

‘No’, Ed said, stroking Oswald’s face, ‘I just don’t want to spend it all at once’.

‘I’m glad’, Oswald said with a wicked smile that showed his bloody teeth, ‘I’m ready to move on to the main course’.

Ed felt his heart flutter as Oswald’s eyes changed back to their familiar pale green in a strange form of reverse bleeding. It made his stare all the more intense. Like a snake staring down a mouse. As he felt Oswald force him down, Ed understood why mice stood still while the snake swallowed them whole. Those eyes were… enthralling.  
Ed thrilled as Oswald pinned his wrists down, the iron strength in Oswald’s grip at electrifying odds with the gentle, attentive kisses he was placing along Ed’s collarbone. His tongue flicked delicately over the skin like a butterfly’s wing and before long, Ed was practically writhing beneath him. Ed was so busy luxuriating in the feather light caresses that he didn’t notice Oswald drifting lower and lower, so much so that he kept his wrists pinned even though Oswald had let go.

Oswald’s tongue flicking over the head of his erection was a different story.  
Ed’s eyes snapped open and he looked down to see Oswald gazing up at him, an expression of almost perverse innocence on his face as he lathed Ed’s cock with his tongue, pink still tinging his saliva. At the same time, Oswald’s long fingers cupped Ed’s ballsack, the tips of his nails tickling the skin and making Ed’s hips buck. Ed mewled like an animal, silently begging Oswald to take his cock into his mouth. Oswald feigned curiosity, tilting his head but then smirked and wrapped his fingers around it instead. Ed quivered at Oswald’s cold fingers around the impossible heat of his member but these tremors segued into pleasurable, languid thrusts as Oswald began to pump slowly. A few (all too short) seconds later, Oswald let go, holding up his fingers glistening with Ed’s precum in triumph.

‘If you need lube-‘ Ed began but gasped. 

Oswald sucked obscenely on his fingers and withdrew them from his mouth. A thick mix of saliva and blood mingled on his digits.

Oswald lowered his hand so his fingertips were pointing at Ed’s entrance. Ed’s breath hitched and he parted his legs to grant Oswald better access. Oswald, sensing Ed’s silent consent, traced a fingertip around Ed’s hole, the blood painting it a vibrant red, it’s smell and the smell of Ed’s lust making the hairs on the back of Oswald’s neck stand on end. 

Oh dear’, Ed said breathlessly, the ticklish sensation incredibly erotic and simultaneously maddening.  
It was better than any lube!  
Ed repeated the phrase like a mantra and Oswald’s ministrations sped up until (after what seemed like an eternity), the first of Oswald’s fingers penetrated his entrance. Ed’s back arched against the bed but before he could recover, Oswald added a second finger making Ed cry out in pleasure as his toes clenched and his fingers curled into claws as they gripped the bedsheet.

‘Are you going to keep saying that all night?’ Oswald teased.

‘N-no!'

‘Then tell me what I want to hear’.

‘Fuck me Oswald’, Ed said through clenched teeth.

‘Beg your pardon?’ Oswald asked smugly.

‘Please fuck me! For the love of God, fuck me!’

Oswald plunged inside without further ceremony, giving a savage snarl of satisfaction that made Ed’s heart sing even as it made his heart hammer. Oswald began to thrust and the world fell away for Ed, his mouth agape at the sheer enormity of being filled by another person. His own fingers had been a means to an end but he knew they would never satisfy him again.  
Ed felt Oswald physically lifting him up from the bed, either not noticing or caring about his injured leg. Perhaps he was too caught up in fucking Ed to care about anything else? The thought made Ed moan and Oswald lifted him higher, impaling him on his cock, Ed felt as if he were ascending to heaven.  
Oswald’s thrusts shocked him to his core, the impacts against his pleasure centre like lightning bolts in his soul, bouncing around its cage of nerves and bone. Ed, frenzied by the shockwaves of pleasure, bit down hard on Oswald’s shoulder in a display of sheer, animalistic need. He heard Oswald give a growl followed by a dark, appreciative chuckle at the irony of a human biting a vampire.

Ed, somehow still capable of some degree of rational thought despite being fucked within an inch of his life, reached down with a trembling hand for his cock.  
Only for Oswald to beat him to it.  
But there was no teasing this time as Oswald began to pump and Ed gave a strangled cry as Oswald matched pace with his thrusts, stimulating Ed from the front and the back. Oswald was all around Ed like an all-encompassing shadow and Ed fucking loved it!  
Oswald’s nerve endings were on fire: he felt like he was chasing something wonderful just out of reach. An addict surging after a craving that would fix everything. He craved Ed. Ed was everything. As his rational train of thought was finally derailed, he gave an inhuman cry of exultation as the horizon reared up before him like dawn breaking.

Ed matched Oswald’s cry with a guttural roar of sheer ecstasy as his back arched and he came, rocking violently as he rode out the greatest orgasm he had ever experienced.

Feeling his mate cum was too much for Oswald and his back arched as he painted Ed’s insides with his seed, truly marking him as his own. He bared his formidable teeth, mouth agape in an instinctive display of primal strength as he held Ed close to him, listening for the rhythm of his heart in the aftermath of the wonderful nocturnal crescendo they had created together.

They collapsed together onto the soft sheets, breathing heavily with delirious smiles as they gazed at each other. Ed impishly licked a stray droplet of blood from the corner of Oswald’s mouth and drew his tongue across Oswald’s lips, making them glisten. Oswald blew him a kiss in response as if he had just applied fresh lipstick.

‘So, how are you planning to top that?’ Ed asked mischievously.

Oswald inhaled and exhaled deeply, surrounded by the heady scent of Ed’s sweat, blood and the fruity aroma of the lube. It smelt like love. Powerful, all-consuming and utterly addictive.

‘The night’s still young’, Oswald promised.


	33. Is That My Shirt?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> holly-defies-gravity asked: Hey, I have been reading all your ficlets and I have been loving them!! I was wondering if you could do one with this one “Is that my shirt?” from the prompt list please

‘Is that my shirt?’

Ed doesn’t look up, too preoccupied with his careful stitching.

‘I noticed the button was loose earlier’.

‘And it couldn’t wait ‘til morning?’ Oswald asked, ‘Or when Olga’s on duty?’

He sat in the armchair by the fire. Ed was sitting across from him on the couch, the sewing kit on the table as he meticulously mended the buttonhole. On the table, Oswald was also surprised to see a number of white pocketsquares folded in a neat pile.

‘I thought you could use some personalised handkerchiefs’, Ed said, ‘Olga may be a woman of many talents but she doesn’t strike me as particularly imaginative’.

‘Imaginative types tend to be talkative types’, Oswald commented, examining one of the handkerchiefs.

He smiled when he saw Ed had stitched a grey penguin on it and its fellows in the pile. He was wondering how to respond to such a nice gesture when Ed spoke again.

‘I couldn’t sleep anyway’.

The tense almost melancholy tone to Ed’s words made the puzzle fall into place.

‘Because it’s too quiet without the screaming’, Oswald said, replacing the handkerchief.

Ed nodded, eyes still locked on his ‘work’ even though Oswald could see the button had been firmly reattached. Ed’s fingers were shaking.

‘When I first got out, I couldn’t believe how big the world felt’, Oswald said quietly, ‘I suddenly had all this freedom and no idea what to do with it’.

‘You came to see me when they released you. At my apartment’.

Concerned by Ed’s subdued demeanour, Oswald tried to make a joke.

‘It was nice to see someone familiar who wouldn’t try to kill me’.

Ed lowered Oswald’s shirt and clasped his hands in his lap.

‘I turned you away’, Ed said.

‘Is that what’s bothering you? Ed, I don’t blame you for-‘

‘You don’t blame me for throwing you out on the streets?!’ Ed asked incredulously, finally looking at Oswald, ‘You have actually killed people for less!’

‘You did what you had to do. I wasn’t myself. I might have gone to the GCPD and told them everything you were planning. You know what I’m saying makes sense’.

‘When Gordon found me in the woods, I thought it was because you told him where I was’.

‘Can’t blame you for thinking that either’, Oswald shrugged.

‘But you didn’t’, Ed said, wonder in his voice, ‘You never told anybody what I was planning even when you were…compromised’.

Oswald thought for a moment. His memories of that period were akin to memories of a bad movie. In his mind, he saw himself as if played by a poor imitator, his real self clawing at the walls of his skull trying to break free. But the truth was he had never been angry at Ed. He had been angry at Tabitha and Butch for the public humiliation he had suffered being tarred and feathered and angry at Gordon’s hypocrisy for abandoning him to Strange’s experiments but Ed could not be blamed for protecting himself. For removing a potent reminder of the consequences he could suffer should he fail in his pursuit of villainy.   
He and Ed were the same and Ed had made Oswald a keen believer in fate.  
They were together for a reason.  
Sensing Ed’s analytical gaze on him as he waited for an answer, Oswald fought down the faint nausea (that always threatened to surface when he thought of Strange) and spoke truthfully.

‘We were still friends’, he said, ‘Friends don’t tell each other’s secrets’.

Ed shook his head, his disbelief at Oswald’s forgiveness obvious. Oswald let him absorb what he had said. He figured his principle would not make much sense to such a logical person as Ed who considered himself a survivor.  
Finally Ed spoke in a slower tone than usual, as if he was trying to recite a speech from memory. Oswald wouldn’t have been surprised if that was indeed what he had been doing before he came downstairs, attracted by the firelight coming back from the bathroom. Ed often talked to himself but Oswald tactfully pretended he didn’t notice. Just another one of Ed’s quirks he found strangely fascinating.

‘I owe you my life Oswald’, Ed said, ‘Arkham was…’

He gave an odd shudder before continuing:

‘It would have eaten me alive and nobody would have cared. You could have left me to rot and you didn’t’.

Oswald got up and walked over. Reaching down, he placed a hand on Ed’s thin shoulder and squeezed meaningfully. Ed looked up to see Oswald open his robe, exposing his bare chest. He slipped the robe down off one shoulder, exposing a vivid dark mark on his flesh.

‘You didn’t leave me either’, Oswald said, tapping the mark with a finger, ‘Remember?’

Ed smiled, a slight upturn at the corner of his lips but his eyes shone as he realised the similarity in the situations.  
Oswald replaced his robe and sat on the couch beside Ed. Both of them looked into the fire and after a few moments, both tried to speak at once.

‘I hope you know that-‘ Oswald said.

‘I just want to say-‘ Ed began.

They both laughed and Oswald invited Ed to speak.

‘I just want to say’, Ed said solemnly, ‘I’ll make sure you won’t regret helping me. I don’t know how yet but I’ll pay you back’.

‘You can start by being yourself’, Oswald said, patting Ed on the knee, ‘By being my friend’.

Ed smiled at the easy contact. How did Oswald always find it so easy to touch him? Every time Ed tried to touch or reassure, it rubbed people the wrong way or he misjudged the situation. But this time he decided to do what his brain was telling him to.  
He grabbed Oswald before he could doubt himself and pulled him into a tight embrace. Ed prepared himself for the inevitable, patronising, pat on the back after a few seconds of terse tolerance. The silent command to let go in the interests of safeguarding the masculine perception of affection. But it didn’t come.  
Instead, he felt Oswald’s hand on his back, swirling in a soothing motion.  
Ed swallowed hard at the gentleness of the gesture, overjoyed that for once he had not overstepped.

‘I’ve just…I’ve never had a real friend before’, Ed said in a tight voice.

Oswald’s voice sounded small, muffled by Ed’s shoulder.

‘Me neither but… I think I could get used to it’.


	34. Fem!Nygmobblepot

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Anonymous asked: Can you write fem!s1!nygmobblepot?? I'd literally die (fem!ed being a blushing mess around fem!oswald would slay me dead) [this probably isn't specific enough, but maybe you could combine it with another prompt?]
> 
> Hope this is the kind of thing you were looking for! BTW I always headcanon them with short hair. I just think Oswald would never have a long hairstyle (that could be grabbed so easily) and no way an overtly logical person like Ed would have any time for a high maintenance hairstyle.

Ed knew next to nothing about fashion (preferring scientific journals to glossy magazines detailing the latest trends) but even she could tell the woman was dressed to impress.  
As she came out of the stall, her brain automatically noted the small details.

Black leather coat with a collar that looked suspiciously like real feathers and tailor made suit trousers over black and white stylish spat like shoes. A pair of velvet gloves with silver umbrellas embroidered on the cuffs sat on the sink.  
Ed could see in the bathroom mirror that the woman was carefully applying black eyeliner with a practiced hand. Ed was envious of how the woman didn’t even flinch as the wand neared her eye, her hand remaining steady as she traced a thick line across her lower lid.

As Ed neared the sink, she saw a black envelope sitting on the sink. The name ‘Osvalda’s’ was emblazoned on it in silver cursive.

Ed washed her hands and dried them with the towel then pretended to fuss with her hair while she analysed the situation. However she had specifically cut her brown hair into a bob for easy maintenance and quickly realised the flimsiness of the cover. Instead she removed her glasses and began to meticulously clean them as her mind raced.

The unusual name on the envelope was instantly familiar to Ed and she now realised where she had seen the woman before. In her memory, she saw the woman curtsy in front of a flabbergasted GCPD announcing herself as the very much alive Osvalda Cobblepot.  
More commonly known as The Penguin.  
Known gangster and former subordinate to Fish Mooney.

‘What is she doing here?’ Ed wondered, only to be startled when Osvalda abruptly lowered her makeup wand and turned to her.

‘Can I help you?’ she asked coldly.

Ed realised she must have been staring but her curiosity won out over the social convention of politeness.

‘I don’t think so’, she smiled, trying to convey friendliness to put Osvalda at ease, ‘Can you?’

A smile traced its way across The Penguin’s white face like a knife. Ed noted it didn’t reach her pale, long lashed, eyes.

‘What do you want?’

Ed considered the question and decided to answer with another question. A good riddle always revealed the nature of the person responding. Perhaps it could shed light on the reason for The Penguin’s presence in the station? Or perhaps just something about The Penguin herself? It wasn’t every day you encountered a criminal mastermind after all.

‘What I want, the poor have, the rich need, and if you eat it you’ll die’, Ed smiled.

Osvalda blinked. Her head tilted, her short, spiked hair akin to a bird’s feathery crest fluttered slightly.

What information could this person possibly be trying to extract from her with an opener like that?

‘Is this-Are you asking me a riddle?’ she asked.

‘Do you like riddles?’

‘No’, Osvalda said bluntly.

Ed blinked at the denial. She hadn’t expected that. She felt her cheeks begin to colour under The Penguin’s unamused stare. She inwardly cursed herself for not anticipating this and doubly cursed herself when, unable to think of anything else to respond with, she asked:-

‘So do you give up?’ 

Osvalda gave a bemused laugh and closed her eyeliner with a sharp snap.  
She gave the strange woman a once over.  
An office worker of some sort judging from the glasses, pale complexion, pens in the pocket and out of date clothes that favoured comfort over style. Despite the woman’s rather impressive height, her thin shoulders were rounded indicating a lack of confidence or an abundance of shorter friends.   
Judging from the social awkwardness, Osvalda knew which explanation made more sense to her.  
But if she lacked confidence, how was this woman approaching her so openly?  
It was insulting and inappropriate.  
Osvalda had never understood how some women could converse so openly in bathrooms!

‘Honey, look-‘

‘Nothing!’ Ed interrupted eagerly, ‘The answer is nothing. The poor have it, the rich need it and if you eat it-‘

Osvalda held up a hand, manicured black painted nails crowning her lean fingers. They were almost akin to bird claws.  
Ed had a sneaking suspicion the pointed tips were designed to act as impromptu weapons should the need arise.

‘Who are you?’ Osvalda asked, concerned that the stranger would perhaps see the lack of an answer from her as some kind of point scoring.

‘Edwardine. Nygma. I know who you are’.

‘Then you know that you’re standing too close’, Osvalda said coldly.

Ed obediently took a pronounced step back, eyes lowered. Osvalda, tossing her head haughtily, began to pack her makeup away in her handbag.

Only to hear Nygma speak again.

‘Did you know that female emperor penguins are able to locate their mates in a group by the sound of a song unique to their partner? Isn’t that neat?’

Osvalda moved away from the sink (trying her best to disguise her prominent limp) and stepped close to Nygma, glaring directly into her eyes.   
She was begrudgingly impressed when she returned the stare without blinking. Nygma’s eyes were so dark that Osvalda could barely see herself in them. She was also surprised to see none of the usual scorn, fear or resentment she usually felt from the eyes of others.

Ed matched Osvalda’s stare easily. She could tell this was an attempt to intimidate her but such an attempt fell flat when you took into account the difference in physical height between them.   
It was fascinating how The Penguin felt the need to maintain her fearsome façade even in non-threatening company. Was it perhaps concern that her injured leg would be seen as a sign of weakness or something more? The need to project strength suggested a more sensitive, empathic soul beneath that hard exterior. And the intensity of those eyes as they stared deep into Ed’s were making her heart flutter in a most pleasant way. Ed felt disappointed when Penguin spoke.

‘Nice to meet you dear’, Osvalda said in a voice coated in venomous honey, ‘Keep moving’.

‘Will do’, Ed said easily and turned on her heel, satisfied that her experiment had been a success.  
She felt she had a much better understanding of Penguin.  
Appearances were important, especially when hiding who you really were: a valuable lesson. Leaving in such a light-hearted way also ensured Ed achieved the subliminal victory from their encounter. The best way to show a predator you were unafraid was to walk (not run) away, back turned.

Osvalda watched Nygma go, feeling distinctly unsatisfied with the lack of fear in her response.   
And oddly intrigued.


	35. I Can't Keep Doing This (NSFW!)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> harpaax asked: How about some angst between Ed and Os with: ‘This was a mistake,’ ‘You can't even look me in the eyes’ & ‘I can't keep doing this’? Whether it ends happily is up to you :D
> 
> @chimichangalord said:“I can’t keep doing this.”

'This was a mistake’, Ed said, half to himself, as he zipped up his fly.

Oswald watched him, amused at how hastily Ed was gathering his clothes together. He turned over, the blanket falling off to show he was fully naked. Around the bed, Oswald’s clothes were scattered along with a variety of other items of a less mundane nature. A studded dog collar and matching lead, a stylish black tuxedo now crumpled due to having been thrown on the floor, half empty pineapple scented lube, an anal plug decorated with peacock feathers…  
He sighed with satisfaction.  
It had been an eventful night.

‘You say that every time’, Oswald said, ‘Is the Riddler afraid of what people might think?’

Ed turned to retort but upon catching sight of Oswald’s naked form turned back around without saying anything. Oswald laughed bitterly. It figured that Ed, ever the contrarian, would get bashful after the act. He certainly hadn’t minded looking at Oswald last night. No matter what part or position.

‘You can’t even look me in the eyes’, Oswald said, wincing as he sat up.

Ed turned and stared at Oswald, hard. Oswald wasn’t impressed.

‘Put on your glasses you coward’.

‘I am not a coward’.

‘Then why are you running?’ Oswald scoffed.

Ed picked up his glasses and stared down at Oswald as he put them on. Making it clear he had no problem meeting his eyes with or without them.

‘I’m. Not. Running’.

Oswald shrugged and picked up the hotel room service menu. He wasn’t about to go without breakfast just because Ed had decided to cut their little rendezvous short. From what he remembered the place did fantastic pancakes.

‘I suppose there’s no point is there?’ Oswald said lightly, ‘Since we both know you’re just going to end up back here’.

Even as Oswald feigned interest in the menu, he watched Ed hungrily, and was rewarded with a definite slump of his shoulders.

‘I can’t keep doing this’, Ed said defeatedly, mechanically doing up his tie.

Oswald smirked as he saw Ed fiddle with his collar, exposing the slightest part of a vibrant love bite on his neck. The moody red and purple hues matched perfectly with the green of his suit. It was beautiful even though Oswald knew it wasn’t the only mark he had left on Ed’s porcelain skin.

‘Just what I’d expect an addict to say’.

‘I should have never told you about those pills!’ Ed snapped, pulling his tie tight.

Oswald considered making a jab about how a tie that tight would cut off oxygen to the brain but decided to go for a deeper cut. Ed had to learn that running out like this carried the risk of ending up ‘walking wounded’. If he didn’t feel the same empty ache Oswald felt every time he left, Ed was at least going to suffer a few slings and arrows on the way out.

‘Don’t you think it’s weird that when you thought I was dead you guzzled them down like candy just to see me but now, when I’m right in front of you, in the flesh, you pretend you don’t want me?’

Ed’s mouth opened but instantly closed again. His jaw was tight as he reached for his jacket and bowler hat. Oswald, stung by the lack of reaction, picked up his own hat he had brought for the session the night before.

‘Maybe I need to keep this on to hold your interest?’

Oswald grinned savagely as he saw Ed’s cheeks colour. He positioned himself so he was lying back, legs akimbo, using his arms to support himself. He ignored how his ass throbbed, still tender from Ed’s ‘attention’ and licked lasciviously at a vivid bruise that Ed’s fingerprints had left on his shoulder. On his head, Oswald placed a black silk top hat at a jaunty angle. The same hat he had worn last night at Ed’s request.

‘I know how you like your partners to play dress up’, Oswald added venomously, looking up from beneath the wide brim as he ran a long finger along it, ‘Did she sing for you too?’

Oswald knew the verbal barb hit home from the way Ed’s jaw tightened. He fancied he could almost see the memory of Isabella dressed as Kristen Kringle in Ed’s narrowed eyes.

‘Goodbye Penguin’, Ed whispered harshly and yanked open the hotel room door.

‘Looking forward to next time, Ed’, Oswald called after him as the door slammed shut.


	36. Why Is Your Mirror Covered?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> buntesfuenkchen asked: Nygmobblepot - Oswald to Edward : “Why is your mirror covered?” (14) THANK YOU!!!! 

‘Why is your mirror covered?’

Ed cast a glance over his shoulder. The wall mounted mirror was covered by a white sheet. Ed had hidden the reflective surface away the same night he had brought the wounded Penguin back to his apartment. He didn’t want to risk an episode with his darker half and hoped not being able to see his reflection would forestall any imaginary yet audible conversations.

‘It needs cleaned’, Ed said.

He saw from Penguin’s raised eyebrow that Penguin didn’t believe him. To distract him, Ed passed him another dinner plate to dry.

‘You should just take it down’, Penguin said, rubbing the plate vigorously with a dishcloth.

‘Why the sudden interest in my interior decorating?’ Ed asked, pulling the plug out of the sink.

The dirty dishwater began to drain and Ed removed his rubber gloves.

‘I spend a lot of time looking at this apartment’, Penguin shrugged, putting the cleaned dishes away in their cupboard.   
As Penguin automatically reached for the cutlery drawer, Ed reflected on how swiftly Penguin had memorised what went in each cupboard. It was nice to have someone understand his filing system for a change.

‘Got any other observations?’ Ed asked.

Penguin threw down his dishcloth as if he had been waiting for a signal. He grabbed Ed’s ornamental pineapple off the windowsill and brandished it like a weapon.

‘What is this?’ Penguin asked.

‘Is this a riddle?’

Penguin rolled his eyes.

‘I have no idea what this is for’, Penguin said, shaking the object, ‘I’ve tried to figure it out but I’m really starting to think there’s nothing more to it!’

Ed laughed, tickled by Penguin’s indignance and the comical image of Penguin glaring suspiciously at a ceramic pineapple for hours. Ed had heard of navel gazing but this was on a whole other level!

‘Anything’s better than daytime television I suppose’, Ed chuckled, ‘Why does there have to be more to it?’

‘Because you bought it’, Penguin said, eyeing the pineapple as if it would yet yield some esoteric secret, ‘There’s always something deeper with you’.

‘Careful, that almost sounded like a compliment’.

‘It was supposed to’, Penguin said quietly and put the pineapple down.

He cleared his throat and Ed waited patiently for what was obviously an important incoming announcement.

‘While you were at work I realised I’ve never actually thanked you for…well, everything you’ve done for me. So: thank you’.

Ed tried not to smile at Penguin’s stiff formality. The body language was totally at odds with Ed’s old, oversized robe and slippers.

‘Okey dokey’, Ed said but Penguin bristled.

‘I’m not finished yet!’

‘Sorry’, Ed said, biting his tongue. It was fascinating how childlike Penguin could be: so keen to impress. Desperate to have others take him seriously. Ed found it endearing but also intriguing when juxtaposed with his savage mind and violent temper.

Penguin held out a piece of paper he had taken from the robe pocket. Ed took it and saw it was an online order for twelve large jars of the spicy mustard he and Oswald both enjoyed. His eyes widened at the price Oswald had paid for it.

‘To replace the ones I’ve used (with interest)’, Oswald said officiously, ‘And I also intend to fully reimburse you for any toiletries or miscellaneous items that may have been used to help me recover from-‘

‘You’re not used to this are you?’

Penguin blinked, annoyed at yet another interruption.

‘Having to say ‘thank you’?’ he asked, fiddling with the robe’s tassels, ‘No’.

‘Don’t worry, you’re doing great’, Ed said, careful not to be patronising in case he insulted Penguin’s sincere gesture, ‘I mean you’re not used to someone helping you without having to promise something in return, are you?’

Ed watched Penguin’s face with fascination as a spectrum of emotions washed over it: regret, anger, pride, and finally, a surprising, almost embarrassed, sadness.

‘Gotham is built on blood and favours’, Penguin said quietly, ‘I don’t know what my life’s worth in that currency’.

Taken aback by the poetic sentiment, Ed was tempted to place a hand on Penguin’s hunched shoulder but decided against it. They were still figuring each other out and he had no desire to infringe on Penguin’s boundaries. He had built them high for a reason and Ed had a habit of misjudging body language. He looked down at the delivery chit for the mustard and smiled.

‘Well, I’m going to need someone to help me eat all this’, he offered, ‘How much does it cost for your friendship?’

Penguin blinked in surprise and then did something Ed had not seen before: he gave a genuine smile. Ed was amazed how it lit up Penguin’s entire face; it totally banished his pallor and ill-used demeanour. Ed knew that (although the actual figures remained hotly debated by the scientific community) it took more muscles to frown than smile and couldn’t help but feel that Penguin had been wasting a great deal of energy that could have been better directed elsewhere.   
He was busy considering the oft quoted sentiment of flies attracted by sugar compared to the quotient attracted by vinegar when Penguin said:

‘For you? Nothing’.

And all Ed could do was smile back.


	37. Thank You For Everything

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> buntesfuenkchen asked: Nygmobblepot - 37 - “Thank you, for everything.” Thank you! 

‘You sure you’re ready?’ Ed asks.　

Oswald cocks the shotgun and checks the barrel while giving himself a once over in a nearby mirror. Around them, his men are filing out to meet Gordon and the others outside. It’s nearly time to assault Galavan’s stronghold.  
Oswald, apparently satisfied with his preening, nods.　

‘Ready, willing and waiting’, Oswald replies, ensuring the gun is set back to safety.　

Ed holds up a hand to stop Oswald from moving.　

‘May I?’ he asks, indicating Oswald’s shoulder with a nod of the head.　

Oswald puts the shotgun down and unbuttons his jacket and shirt. He’s far beyond the point of self consciousness when stripping in front of Ed.   
After all, he’s pretty sure Ed saw everything when disposing of his soiled clothes when he found him in the woods. Even if Ed is too much of a gentleman to mention it.  
　  
Ed clinically inspects the stitches set into Oswald’s shoulder. The bullet wound has healed well. He presses it experimentally.  
Oswald gives a shiver at the pressure.　

'Sorry, I know’, Ed says, continuing to probe, 'Cold hands’.　

'No, no, it’s uh-just a bit ticklish’, Oswald replies, 'I’m used to your hands by now’.　

Oswald blushes at the unintentional implications of what he has just said but Ed does not seem to notice. He’s too wrapped up in his ministrations as he ensures Oswald is ready for the fight ahead. Satisfied that the wound is no longer so painful as to be a hindrance when it comes to gunplay, Ed rebuttons Oswald’s shirt.

Oswald allows Ed to do so, feeling a momentary pang of regret that this will be the last time he does. Despite a rocky start, Oswald has become used to having Ed around. He has toyed with the idea of staying in contact after dealing with Galavan but has no wish to risk affecting Ed’s position in the GCPD with their association.  
Then again if Jim Gordon can get away with such things, why shouldn’t Ed?  
And after tonight, Oswald is pretty sure Jim will owe him a favour.　

Ed dusts off his hands and gave a thumbs up.　

They stand and look at each other for a moment, both unsure how to end their co-habitation in such strange circumstances.

Oswald makes the first move. He keeps it simple: sentiment is not his forte.　

'Thank you’, Oswald says, offering a hand, 'For everything’.　

Ed takes it and clasps his other hand over Oswald’s as they shake.   
He is always amazed how warm Oswald’s hands are. He smiles as he reflects on how fitting it is considering Oswald’s nickname.　

'Just…don’t go getting shot again okay?’ Ed asks.　

'Don’t worry’, Oswald says breezily as he retrieves the shotgun, 'It’s going to be fine’.　

'You’re enjoying this aren’t you?’ Ed asks, his own heart beating with excitement seeing the glimmer in Oswald’s eyes.　

'Oh yes’, Oswald grins, licking his lips in anticipation, 'Mostly because Galavan won’t’.


	38. The Kitchen? Of All Places?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> @buntesfuenkchen: Hi, you wonderful writer! I choose some for maybe a hot smut one in kitchen? 125. It feels really tight.260. You don’t have to dress up. 266. Call in sick. 277. The kitchen? Of all places? Maybe for a fluffy-smutty one? 9. Don’t stop if you’re enjoying yourself. 96. If we’re going to do it, I want to do it right. 213. This is heaven. 215. Am I dreaming?

‘Am I dreaming?’ Ed exclaimed, rubbing his eyes in exaggerated wonder, ‘Oswald Cobblepot actually cooking?’

Oswald raised a sardonic eyebrow as Ed entered the mansion’s kitchen.

‘If you behave you might actually get some’, he replied, tossing another pancake into the air.

Ed leant on the breakfast bar and admired what Oswald had cooked up. Two separate piles of warm pancakes sat on two dishes beside two tall glasses of orange juice and a full coffee pot. A bowl of sliced fruit nestled in a basket alongside a jar of jam, a slab of butter and an amber bottle of maple syrup. It was a pleasant surprise. When Ed had woken up in bed alone, he had assumed Oswald had gotten an urgent call or something. It seemed as though there was always one crisis or another that demanded his attention.

Ed nodded approvingly at the spread and Oswald smiled. As Oswald turned to pick up a dishtowel, his back was exposed and Ed laughed in surprised delight as he saw that under Oswald’s apron was nothing but bare flesh.

‘Oh my…‘

‘Don’t worry’, Oswald said, winking, ‘ _You_ don’t have to dress up’.

‘The kitchen? Of all places?’ Ed said, shaking his head in mock disapproval, ‘Have you no shame?’

Oswald placed the pancake onto one of the plates with a flourish. Setting the pan aside, he carefully selected nine strawberry slices. Placing four slices on top of each stack, he kept one back. Locking half hooded eyes with Ed, he used the final strawberry slice like lipstick.  
Ed swallowed as he watched the soft fruit trace over Oswald’s pale lips, red juice glazing them as Oswald puckered. Then the slice was gone, Oswald licking his fingers and lips as he sucked the sweet fruit obscenely.  
Ed watched Oswald’s Adam’s apple bob as he swallowed and mimicked the action without noticing.

‘I think we both know the answer to that particular riddle’, Oswald smirked.

**

‘This is heaven’, Ed said, as the remains of another pancake vanished down his throat.

‘They’re just pancakes’, Oswald said, his humble tone at odds with the visible way he swelled at Ed’s praise.

‘No, I mean it’s a small miracle you actually managed to work out how to use the stove’, Ed said, eyebrow raised in challenge as he popped an apple slice into his mouth.

Oswald bristled at Ed’s good humoured taunting as he was expected to and held his head high.

‘My way of cooking-‘

‘Using such exotic ingredients as a phone and a takeout menu’, Ed deadpanned.

‘My way of cooking’, Oswald repeated with a haughty sniff, ‘Is a choice. I cook only when it’s important’.

And with that pronouncement, he reached for the maple syrup. His dignity was slightly damaged a moment later as he strained to open it.

‘Need some help?’ Ed asked.

‘It feels really tight’, Oswald grunted, tapping it off the table to try and loosen the cap.

‘Allow me’, Ed offered magnanimously, ‘It’s not the first time I’ve helped you with…tightness’.

Oswald scowled at Ed, keenly aware that he had just lost the latest round of their flirtatious game.  
From Ed’s grin, he knew it too as Oswald, defeated, handed over the bottle. Applying simple physics, Ed unscrewed the cap easily. Oswald reached for it but before Ed handed it back, he tilted his head and opened wide.  
Oswald watched, hypnotised as Ed caught the languid droplets on his waiting tongue. Ed moaned deliberately, side eyeing Oswald, savouring his reaction. Licking his lips, Ed handed Oswald the syrup.

‘Weren’t you ever told not to play with your food?’ Oswald chided as he put some on the pancakes.

As he put the syrup down, Ed traced a stray droplet from the bottle before it hit the table surface.

‘This is just an appetiser though’, Ed said, ‘Isn’t it?’

He offered Oswald his finger, the golden bead of syrup balancing on the tip. Oswald met Ed’s eyes The humour sparkling in the dark depths mingling with deep seated desire was too much to resist. He obediently took Ed’s fingertip into his mouth and licked it clean. Ed hissed through his teeth as he felt Oswald’s teeth graze his knuckle as more and more of his finger slipped inside.

‘I think I’m ready for the main course’, Ed whispered, watching Oswald’s head bob back and forth, ‘If it’s ready to be served?’

Oswald drew back and Ed’s finger was exposed to cold air. Ed remained seated as Oswald got to his feet and came closer, lean fingers trailing along the smooth surface of the table. He gazed down at Ed and Ed felt his cock pulse as he noticed a growing bulge beneath Oswald’s apron.  
Before they could do anything however, the phone rang. Ed thrilled as Oswald actually snarled at it like an animal brought to heel. It seemed neither of them were in the mood to entertain anyone else today.  
Hell, the way Ed was feeling, Gotham could have been in flames and he wouldn’t have cared.

‘Call in sick’, Ed said.

‘Is that an order?’ Oswald asked, intrigued.

‘Yes’, Ed growled, getting to his feet.

Oswald blushed as the size difference between he and Ed became apparent once more. Without looking, Oswald hung up the phone and took it off the hook.

Ed nodded knowingly. Oswald liked it when he took control, allowed his dark side off the leash a little. Being dominated, ironically, turned Oswald on like nothing else did.

‘Well, don’t stop if you’re enjoying yourself’, Oswald purred, reaching inside Ed’s robe.

His touch was warm on the bare flesh of Ed’s chest and Ed’s hips bucked automatically as Oswald traced one, dusky nipple.

‘Why do you love me? I’m not good enough for you’.

Ed smiled fondly. They were entering the endgame now. Oswald always liked a verbal ‘pick me up’ before things really got started.  
Ed reached beneath Oswald’s chin and tilted his head up. Expectant, pale eyes gazed into Ed’s.

‘You know you’re a perfect fit for me. In more ways than one. You just like to have your ego…’

Oswald moaned as Ed suddenly grabbed the bulge in his apron with one hand. The other reached behind Oswald, gripping his ass cheek, pulling him closer.

‘…stroked’, Ed finished, letting his whisper trace over the shell of Oswald’s ear.

Oswald however was not about to give in without a fight. Ed exhaled shakily as Oswald began to grind against him, the thin material of Ed’s pyjama bottoms offering no protection against Oswald’s hard, insistent erection.  
Ed, finally losing patience in the face of the intoxicating friction, physically lifted Oswald onto the table, taking care to move the dishes. Oswald gave a laugh of triumph as he saw Ed pull his robe open. He always won. Ed always broke first.

‘The kitchen of all places?’ Oswald parroted, even as he lay back and spread his legs wide, ‘Have you no shame?’

‘Oh Ozzy’, Ed crooned, leaning over as he pulled Oswald’s apron open slowly, ‘You know me better than that’.


	39. I'm Only Here For An Alibi

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Anonymous asked:
> 
> I may have to send a few if that’s okay because so many of these would be amazing for Nygmobblepot, but how about “I’m only here for an alibi.”
> 
> 42) ‘I’m only here to establish an alibi’
> 
> Enjoy!

‘Ed, what a surprise!’

Ed wearily raised his head from his crossed arms.  
He didn’t turn: he could hear the telltale clicking of Oswald’s cane approaching behind him.  
Oswald leant on the bar beside him as Ed braced himself for the inevitable mockery.  
The Iceberg Lounge was busy enough that nobody paid attention to them. Ed had been able to slip in easily without anybody even glancing at him, save for the bartender keen to be of service. Ed had ordered a drink then made use of the bar to rest his body, mind and spirit.  
It figured Oswald would spot him right away.  
He made a point to be in the Lounge on Saturday nights to keep an eye on things and socialise.  
Ed also knew that Oswald would notice the state of his clothes.  
He could feel cool air on his ankle where the trouser leg had been torn and there were dark patches on various parts of his suit where he had been forced to tumble along the ground. It had been the only way to cushion his fall from his swift ascent of the museum’s wall.  
Stupid guard dogs.  
How had he missed them during the planning stage?!  
He had been so distracted by the museum’s sophisticated alarm system he had completely overlooked guard dogs as an external defence.

‘Don’t tell me, you came all the way here for our reasonably priced cocktails?’ Oswald continued, indicating the martini glass on the bar.

Ed pinched the bridge of his nose, trying to focus on the real reason he had come to the Iceberg Lounge.  
There was more alcohol in a first aid kit than in the milky green concoction the Lounge called a Grasshopper.

‘You know this watered down soda pop would be the last reason for anyone to come here’, Ed said, pushing the ‘grasshopper’ away, ‘You also know I’m only here to establish an alibi’.

‘Because the GCPD have put out an APB out on you for trying to rob the museum’, Oswald said, clicking his fingers.

The bartender appeared and spirited Ed’s disappointing beverage away as Ed scowled at Oswald’s smug expression.

‘The security cameras caught you while you were trying to evade the guard dogs’, Oswald explained, eyes drifting down to Ed’s tattered trouser leg, ‘By the looks of things they caught you too’.

‘You’re well informed’, Ed said acidly.

Just because Oswald was right didn’t mean he had to be so smug about it!  
Did other people find it this obnoxious when Ed pointed out their myriad failings?  
It wasn’t nearly as much fun when you were on the receiving end.

‘It’s all over the police radio’, Oswald said.

‘It’s impolite to eavesdrop’, Ed replied, embarrassment flooding his system at the thought of the entire GCPD laughing at his misfortune.

‘The good news is the cameras are ancient so it’s unlikely they picked up a clear image of you but you do know an alibi only works if I corroborate your story? Whatever it may be’.

Ed straightened and regarded an expectant Oswald.  
Good. Time to get down to business.  
They both knew where this was going to end up.  
But both enjoyed the flirtation needed to get to an agreement.  
Ed needed a distraction after such a disheartening venture.

‘I’m sure we can come to some arrangement’.

‘What makes you think you have anything I need?’ Oswald asked, coquettishly, head tilted.

‘How about something you want?’ Ed asked, spreading his legs suggestively.

Oswald raised an eyebrow.

‘I would be taking quite a risk, harbouring a fugitive under my roof’, he mused, drumming his fingers on the bar distractedly.

Ed slammed a hand over Oswald’s.  
He was satisfied to notice Oswald jump at the swiftness of the movement.  
Ed used his fingertips to swirl spiral patterns into the back of Oswald’s hand before interlinking their fingers.

‘How about between your sheets?’ he purred, lifting Oswald’s hand to his lips and bestowing a chaste kiss.

Oswald blinked slowly, eyes half hooded as he hissed a breath in through his teeth.

‘How long do you need?’

‘As long as you can give me’, Ed smiled as he saw the telltale hunger begin to surface in Oswald’s pale eyes.  
Such a greedy little bird he was.

‘I think I could be convinced’, Oswald whispered, pulling on Ed’s hand gently but insistently, ‘With the right amount of pressure’.

Ed got to his feet, Oswald’s soft words making warmth suffuse his aching body. It was always so amusing to see Oswald feign patience.

‘Shall we adjourn to your office for negotiations?’ Ed asked, even though he already knew the answer.

‘After you. I insist’, Oswald replied, looking pointedly at Ed’s rear end, ‘I do so love to watch you go’.


	40. You Have No Idea How Much I Want You Right Now

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> buntesfuenkchen asked:
> 
> Nygmobblepot - 43 - "You have no idea how much I want you right now?" That line screams for smut 

Oswald shoves Ed against the wall and pins his arms to his sides.  
Ed smirks at the strength in Oswald’s hands as he forces him to hold still.   
Oswald is stronger than people think.  
Ed loves a secret.  
Especially one that makes him feel so aroused.　

Ed feels Oswald pulling him down and obediently gets on his knees.  
Oswald takes Ed’s face in his hands and kisses him on the cheek, using his tongue to trace a path to Ed’s neck. Ed quivers at what he knows is coming next.  
He is still not prepared for the intensity of Oswald’s teeth on his neck.　

Ed moans and caresses Oswald’s hair roughly in appreciation as Oswald begins to suck.  
A painful red blossoms behind Ed’s eyes as he feels a lovebite begin to blossom on his neck.  
Oswald’s teeth are sharp and Ed writhes along with the spiralling movements of Oswald’s tongue against his flesh.  
He feels his erection tent his trousers as he relishes the dual sensations of pleasure and pain.　

‘You have no idea how much I want you right now’, Ed breathes as Oswald draws away.　

Ed shivers as cool air hits the flushed skin of his neck.  
Oswald takes hold of Ed’s tie and slides his hand along the material. Thanks to Oswald’s grip, the tie tightens around Ed’s neck and Ed swallows compulsively.  
Oswald pulls upwards gently, tugging Ed’s face up like a dog on a leash.  
Ed thinks how fitting the imagery is as he licks his lips, confronted with Oswald’s half hooded eyes gazing down into his own.　

'So show me’, Oswald commands, as he begins to undo his belt.


	41. Why Do You Love Me?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> buntesfuenkchen asked:  
> Still not knowing how to define their relationship Ed confronts Oswald at the Mansion to get a clear answer to this question - but this is going to be a wild talk between these two guys! 37. We are the same! 48. It’s now or never. 98. Remember when you said you would change? 137. Stop showing up at my favourite places. 205. If you only knew. 227. This belongs to you. I want you to have it. 256. Don’t run away from me. 200. I’ve been thinking about what I used to do to you.
> 
> Anonymous said:“Why do you love me?” “I’m not good enough for you.” Nygmobblepot. 
> 
> Enjoy!

‘I came here to tell you to stop showing up at my favourite places’.

Oswald didn’t turn at the voice. He continued to stare out of the mansion’s window at the rain outside. He could sense Ed behind him, standing in the centre of the cavernous room. Oswald narrowed his eyes as he glanced sideways and read the time on the grandfather clock. He had been expecting this rendezvous sooner.

‘A phone call could have done that’, he replied.

‘If you ever picked up maybe’, Ed said, crossing his arms.

‘I have more important things to do than explain to you that you do not hold the monopoly on Chinese takeouts’.

Oswald turned and walked to the drinks cabinet bar. He took out a clean glass and examined it critically.

‘Besides, I happen to like that restaurant’, Oswald concluded.

‘I know. I introduced you to it’.

Oswald scowled at Ed’s pointed tone. He noted Ed hadn’t removed that stupid bowler hat. It was impolite to wear hats indoors and Oswald knew Ed knew that.

‘Nice to see you’re still keeping score’, Oswald said, throwing ice into the glass, ‘Have you made a wall chart yet with little gold stars and frowny faces? Or do you keep a filing cabinet?’

‘Well, this conversation will be over faster than expected since you’ve skipped straight ahead to childish insults’.

‘Not soon enough’, Oswald remarked, pouring himself a scotch.

‘Remember last night when you said you would change the record and we would try to have an adult conversation the next time we met?’ Ed said as he advanced.

Oswald took a drink, ignoring Ed’s approach. He did remember. They had both agreed not to get into a confrontation right then and there. Neither one of them wished to cause trouble for an establishment they both enjoyed so they had mutually agreed to settle things elsewhere. Oswald had actually been expecting the usual routine from Ed; numerous tedious riddles leading Oswald to a meet. He didn’t know whether to be grateful or insulted that Ed had not bothered. Not naturally inclined to compromise on his emotions, Oswald settled for a mix of both.

‘Oh?’ Oswald said airily, ‘I seem to remember you telling me I couldn’t change. Because I’m a ‘spoiled child’ who ‘would sacrifice anyone to save my own neck’’.

Oswald downed the rest of the tumbler and put it down on the bar with a sharp, punctuated tap.

‘Right?’ Oswald challenged.

‘Now who’s keeping score?’ Ed said, corners of his mouth upturned in an unpleasant smirk.

Oswald rolled his eyes and began to move past Ed.

‘I’m sorry if seeing me at the restaurant last night put you off your food. Now if you’ll excuse me’.

Oswald halted as Ed stepped into his path. He considered dodging around him but did not trust his knee with such a compulsive movement. So he settled for glaring up at Ed, fingers clenched on the edge of the bar like a roosting bird of prey’s talons.

‘Don’t run away from me’, Ed said sternly.

Oswald rolled his eyes, unimpressed with Ed’s attempt at intimidation.

‘You’re the one who’s always running Riddler!’ he countered, ‘Is it cowardice or that same old pathological need for attention?’

He flicked Ed’s tie with one finger and smirked triumphantly as Ed blinked in surprise and took a step back.

‘Admit it’, Oswald teased, ‘You only run because you want me to chase you’.

Ed pushed his glasses up and Oswald felt a grudging admiration for how quickly Ed had regained composure.

‘Then why am standing here?’ Ed asked.

‘Illuminate me’, Oswald said wearily, spreading his arms invitingly.

‘I’m here to tell you it’s over Oswald’.

Oswald waited for Ed to continue but realised from his expectant air he was finished. Oswald rolled his eyes and asked the inevitable question. The question Ed expected.

‘What is?’

‘Whatever this is between us’, Ed said making a non-committal gesture as he indicated the two of them, ‘I’ve been thinking about what I used to do to you - what I’m still doing to you - and it just feels so…pointless’.

Unsure how to respond to the genuine sounding melancholy in Ed’s voice, Oswald resorted to a well tested tactic: he tried to push Ed’s buttons.

‘I take it you’re referring to your multiple attempts to murder me?’

‘Please don’t ask pointless questions’.

Oswald laughed mockingly.

‘Look who’s telling who not to ask pointless-‘

‘There’s no end game to this is there?’

Oswald stopped talking and looked at Ed properly. He didn’t know what tactic Ed was employing now. He looked so regretful. Oswald reflected bitterly as he considered how long it had taken him to practice the emotion in front of the mirror. Well, he wasn’t going to fall for it!

‘There’s no final battle and no victor standing over the other’s broken body’, Ed said reflectively, Just this. Glares across a crowded room, snide remarks and tainted memories. Endless, repetitive, stalemate’.

Oswald felt anger coiling in his stomach like bad indigestion. Did Ed think this was a game?! He felt his fingernails dig painfully into the surface of the bar. Of course he did! Oswald refused to let him win. Especially when he was talking as if Oswald wasn’t even there!

‘Do you make it sound like a bad breakup on purpose?’ Oswald said snidely.

Ed laughed. A borderline hysterical guffaw that segued into low, humourless chuckles.

‘The worst thing is, I think you’d be okay with that’, he said, a twisted smile on his face, ‘That’s what you want. There’s ‘no Ed Nygma without the Penguin’. Or, was that was the other you? I can’t even remember’.

Ed flinched as the glass smashed on the floor beside him. Oswald had thrown it. Ed’s eyes widened at the blatant anger contorting Oswald’s face, his teeth bared in pale lips. He hadn’t meant to push him so hard. He had just wanted to clear the air.

‘You think this is what ‘okay’ looks like?!’ Oswald shouted.

Breathing heavily, Oswald adjusted his jacket and calmed himself. He had let Ed get to him. A costly mistake. For some reason Ed’s confusion over whether he had been speaking to him or not had stung.

‘You really are crazy’, Oswald added more quietly, ‘If you think I’m okay with this’.

Ed laughed again, more bitter this time.

‘If only you knew’, Ed said, shaking his head.

‘I know more than you think!’ Oswald retorted, ‘You think I couldn’t hear you talking to yourself all those times?!’

Ed’s mind went blank out of pure shock. Oswald had known about his ‘episodes’?

‘You- you heard-‘ he stammered, his mind replaying a hundred scenarios.

All the times he had experienced an episode only for Oswald to suddenly appear at random, claiming to have forgotten something or saying he needed advice. The times Ed had been unable to sleep and Oswald had just so happened to be up and making tea. In this very house. The more he remembered, the more he came to realise: when he had been with Oswald, he had barely suffered any hallucinations. Because he had been happy.

‘I’m not deaf, I’m not blind and I’m not stupid Ed!’ Oswald yelled, heedless of Ed’s reminiscing.

‘Wait, you…fell in love with me even though you knew-‘

‘What?!’ Oswald snapped, the mention of his feelings for Ed making his voice tight, ‘That you were crazy?!’

That got the reaction Oswald wanted.

He gasped as Ed grabbed his collar and yanked him. Oswald struggled at the sudden force, using the sudden pain lancing through his leg as fuel for his own fury.

‘Don’t call me that’, Ed warned venomously.

‘Takes one to know one’, Oswald growled, relief warring with his anger.  
Finally, some movement. Some sign Ed gave a damn.  
His eyes narrowed as Ed withdrew something from his jacket.

‘This belongs to you. I want you to have it’.

There was a sharp ‘snick’ as Ed pressed the button on the knife handle. The blade slid out, cold and lethal. Oswald could see his eyes reflected in it as Ed held it close to his face. He remembered Ed had given it to him after they had ‘finished’ with Mr Leonard.

‘Any last words?’

Oswald couldn’t help but cackle at the invitation. The déjà vu was so strong it was almost akin to vertigo.

‘No thanks’, Oswald hissed, ‘I’m saving them up to get a free coffee’.

His savage grin faded however when Ed pressed the knife into his lax fingers and, holding Oswald’s hand in an iron grip, Ed held the knife to his own throat using Oswald’s hand. Oswald tried to pull away but Ed’s grip tightened, making his knuckles creak.

‘Prove you can change’, Ed said in an odd emotionless tone.

‘I’m warning you Ed’, Oswald sneered, ‘I’m not like a certain someone who spends all their time gloating’.

‘Prove it’, Ed repeated, ‘It’s now or never Oswald. Do us both a favour’.

Oswald’s eyes darted between the knife and Ed’s placid demeanour. His fingers gripped the handle so hard he could feel it imprint his skin. His nails dug into his own palm and he inhaled through gritted teeth at the pain.

It wasn’t fair! Ed didn’t play fair!

Oswald screeched in Ed’s face in sheer frustrated despair. As it quieted into a hoarse moan, Ed stared deep into his eyes. Pale eyes above reddened cheeks met glistening brown orbs hidden behind glass.

‘I hate you’, Oswald snarled, eyes watery.

‘No you don’t’, Ed whispered.

‘I hate that I need you’.

‘I know the feeling’, Ed said ruefully.

There was a sudden, sharp noise as the knife point embedded itself into the floor. Ed exhaled shakily at the force behind the throw. He always forgot that Oswald was stronger than he looked. Oswald gently let go of Ed’s collar and slumped onto the couch. He massaged his temples, eyes closed. Ed tactfully ignored how Oswald’s hands were shaking.

‘What do you want from me Ed?’ Oswald asked, defeated, ‘One minute you’re telling me you never want to see me again and the next-‘

‘I never said that!’ Ed protested, ‘I’m just tired of being at your throat all the time and pride getting in the way of what we both really want!’

Oswald said nothing. He was looking out at the rain again. It had been raining that day at the docks too. Both of those days.

‘Oswald?’ Ed asked, hands clasped yet fingers fumbling, ‘Are you listening to me?’

‘I’m listening’, Oswald replied quietly, fingers running along the fabric of the couch.

‘Say something’, Ed asked, careful to avoid pleading.   
Oswald hated begging.

He knelt in front of Oswald, a subconscious gesture of submission but Oswald turned away.

‘You make it sound so easy when you say things like that’, Oswald said to the fireplace, ‘Why do you love me?’

The answer was obvious and immediate.

‘Because we’re the same’, Ed said, ‘Matching certificates remember?’

‘I wouldn’t have pegged you as a sentimentalist’.

‘It’s easier when you’re around’.

Ed noticed the slight turn upwards at the corner of Oswald’s lips. He dared to reach for Oswald’s resting hand. Oswald flinched and Ed stopped immediately. Oswald placed his hands in his lap, clasping them together like a man at prayer and Ed abandoned the gesture.

‘I’m not good enough for you’, Oswald said, head hung so low, Ed could just see the tip of his nose, ‘I hurt you’.

Ed saw the memories in his head like an old slideshow. Isabella smiling, her corpse on the slab, the cut brake lines, the anger, the betrayal, the mistake…Like an old slideshow, they seemed faded and empty. Aged and cracked. The emotions impossible to fully recall or experience. Phantom pains.

When Oswald had betrayed him and murdered Isabella, he had felt so righteous when he took his revenge. So justified. And what had it gotten him?  
For some reason it made him smile. Perhaps they were right: the best comedies were born of tragedy.

‘You don’t think you’re good enough for a deranged, melodramatic, overdressed serial killer?’ he asked.

Oswald’s shoulders began to shake and it was only when he straightened that Ed realised he was laughing, not weeping. Oswald shook his head as he regarded Ed.

‘We are the same aren’t we?’ Oswald asked.

This time when Ed reached for his hand, Oswald did not pull away.

‘We both know there’s no point in either of us apologising’, Ed said, making it clear he was not blameless, ‘When all’s said and done, we deserve each other. For better or worse’.

‘Is it wrong to feel happy about that?’ Oswald asked in a small voice.

Ed sat down beside him. His heart fluttered when he felt the weight of Oswald’s head on his shoulder. They had always liked to sit on this couch. Long nights spent talking in front of the fire.   
Together.   
Complete.

‘We’ll find the answer’, Ed promised as they watched the rain together.


	42. Witch!Oswald and Familiar!Ed

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> anonymous asked: Can you do a nygmob ficlet where Oswald is a witch and Ed his his familiar (shapeshifting companion that turns into a crow)?
> 
> What a specific request! I love it!  
> This turned out slightly NSFW. If anyone would like me to continue this, drop me an ask: I may add a smutty continuation ;)  
> Enjoy!

‘I was getting worried about you’, Oswald said, opening the window.

Ed hopped in through the pane, flapping his wings as he tried to shake the raindrops from his feathers. He stood obediently, the object he had been sent to fetch secure in his beak. Raising his neck, he offered it to his master. Oswald took it and stroked Ed’s head with a single finger in appreciation. Ed, satisfied his job was complete, began to groom himself.  
As Oswald held the ring up to the light to admire it, he heard Ed’s voice reverberate in his head in its customary ghostly whisper.

‘Tabby took exception to me spying on her mistress. She swatted me good’.

‘Are you alright?’ Oswald asked, interest in his prize temporarily forgotten.

Ed opened one wing then the other, showing a few crooked feathers but nothing else.

‘Just a few ruffled feathers. You should see Tabby’.

The crow chattered: a sound Oswald recognised as laughter.

‘Stupid cat chased me through quick dry cement’, Ed finished smugly.

‘Well done Ed’, Oswald chuckled, ‘I knew you wouldn’t let me down’.

Ed’s feathers rose in a visible swell of pride at Oswald’s praise.

‘It wasn’t much of a challenge’, Ed said, ‘I don’t think Barbara even knew what it was. If you wanted a ring, I could have given you a much nicer one’.

Ed flew towards Oswald’s desk. He landed and walked towards a box made of carved bone and used his beak to flip the lid open. Inside were various bits and pieces arranged with painstaking care despite the vast discrepancy between the values of the objects within. Oswald approached the desk and looked fondly at Ed’s treasure trove. Multicoloured candy bar wrappers (though Ed liked purple and green the most), bottlecaps, strangely shaped pieces of bone, a silk ribbon, a dozen rings from cans, individual pearls from a broken necklace, a police officer’s golden badge and finally an assortment of actual jewellery. As Oswald fondly watched his familiar rifle through his pile of rings, he thought about how Ed saw beauty in the strangest things.

Ed, finally having selected a suitable ring, held it up to Oswald. Oswald examined it with interest. It was a new one: silver with purple and green gems intertwined. He nodded approvingly but returned it to Ed.

‘This ring’s not for me’, Oswald explained, showing Ed the band, ‘It’s for you’.

He smiled knowingly at Ed’s tilted head. He could sense the confusion and Ed’s desire not to hurt his feelings. What use would a crow have for a plain, wooden band? It was little better than a stick.

‘I’m flattered but I have plenty here’, Ed eventually said, ‘It might mess up my filing system’.

‘No. I mean it’s for you to use. This is a ring of transformation’.

Ed’s tail flicked and his claws tapped: Oswald could see the wonder in his avian face. A ring of transformation was serious magic. A worthy prize for man or crow despite its unassuming appearance.

‘You don’t like me the way I am?’ Ed asked.

‘No! No, I like the way you are. I’d just like to maybe lessen the chances of you getting eaten by cats’.

Oswald placed the ring on the desk. Ed walked over to it and poked it tentatively with a clawed toe.

‘What do you want to turn me into instead? Please don’t say a cat’.

‘I was going to leave that up to you’.

Ed blinked and groomed himself to downplay his excitement.

‘Big decision’.

‘Don’t worry, the alternate form won’t be forever. You can switch back and forth. I don’t want you to think you’d be ‘grounded’’.

Oswald had barely finished speaking before Ed answered.

‘I want to be a human’.

This time it was Oswald’s turn to be surprised.

‘That was fast’.

Ed began to pace, his head nodding along as he spoke.

‘It’s the most logical choice. You guys are the most adaptable predators on the planet after all. It’d be easy for me to blend in when doing recon, fingers would be far better for flipping through books to do research, I could do the shopping and I could clean the house rather than you relying on those deranged enchanted brooms’.

He stopped pacing and looked up at his master expectantly.

‘Unless of course you don’t approve?’

Oswald swallowed hard. Of course he approved. To be able to truly speak to Ed, to see his facial expressions, hear his voice, to touch him…

‘Human it is’, he said, ‘Male or female?’

Ed laughed.

‘I think changing species is enough of a threshold for now. So, how do we make a man out of me?’

**

Oswald opened the curtains and scanned the sky. It wouldn’t be long now.

Behind him, Ed sat on the bed, nestled within Oswald’s robe. When he transformed into a human, he would be naked and, whilst Oswald had conjured up some clothes, he was unsure what size Ed would be when the change was complete. The robe was too big for Oswald but hopefully it would serve as adequate cover for Ed.

‘When the moon rises, the ring will activate automatically’, Oswald said, ‘It’ll be painless. I promise’.

‘You’ve already researched this’.

‘Maybe’.

‘Did you know I would ask to be human?’

Oswald fought down the automatic reply of ‘I hoped’ and said:-

‘No. I just wanted to make sure that it wouldn’t hurt, no matter what form you chose. Nervous?’

Excited’, Ed said, feathers erect and tail feathers wagging.

Oswald smiled and began to pointedly turn away until Ed’s voice halted him.

‘Will you watch?’

‘Are you sure?’

‘I just…I want you to know it’s me, Even if I look different’.

Oswald came over to the bed and gently stroked Ed’s head. Ed leant into the gesture, eyes half closed and crooned in his throat.

‘Ed, I’d always know you’, Oswald said gently, ‘No matter what you look like’.

‘Good because I think it’s start-starting-’

Oswald winced as Ed’s voice vanished from his brain like a light switch being turned off. As he blinked in surprise at the sudden severance, a green glow caught his eye. The ring he had carefully placed on one of Ed’s primary feathers was starting to shine.  
Ed had slumped forward onto the bed insensate and Oswald watched as the green aura spread and covered his familiar. Oswald shivered as he felt a tingling sensation on his own skin and realised he was experiencing resonance from the ring. It made sense, after all he and Ed were magically connected, and he breathed a sigh of relief that his pain nullifying spell had been successful. 

He reached out to touch Ed’s wingtip and was startled to feel the texture begin to change beneath his fingertips. He couldn’t see Ed anymore, just a dazzling green outline but he could see that the outline was changing, growing larger. 

Oswald began to gather the robe, carefully sliding Ed’s developing arms into the sleeves. His hands brushed over Ed’s swelling chest and as his feathers shrank away, Oswald’s palm glided over smooth skin. Ed’s legs kicked twice spasmodically as his knees realigned and Oswald saw his toes splay and shrink, his claws retreating into his feet. Ed let out a dreamy sounding caw that segued into a low, almost longing, decidedly human, moan that made Oswald’s shiver. On a whim, he stroked Ed’s back and as his hand drifted down, he felt the remnants of Ed’s tail feathers vanish between two pert ass cheeks.  
Blushing as he realised what he was doing and that the glow was beginning to fade, Oswald tied the robe closed and stepped back to a respectful distance as Ed began to stir.

Even though Ed had made the choice, waking up in such a strange body was bound to be a shock. Oswald averted his eyes, allowing Ed the chance to examine his body before he did. He could feel the magic retreating now that its task was complete and the room was once more bathed in a dim light as the green aura vanished into gleaming pinpricks that blinked out one by one.

He heard Ed move into a sitting position and thrilled as there was an awed gasp of delight.

‘This is me then?’

Oswald finally looked up. Ed had risen into a sitting position and was gazing in wonder at his hands. He turned his head towards Oswald and Oswald was grateful for the dim light in the room. That way Ed couldn’t see him blush. 

A pair of deep brown eyes set into a pale, flawless face with a sprinkling of freckles over his nose. Ed’s short brown hair was messy and unkempt but his innocent smile was so warm it gave him the aura of a delighted schoolboy rather than a dishevelled adult. Oswald marvelled at Ed’s lean, thin legs protruding from the bottom of the robe and his long, clever, fingers as he touched his own face.  
Ed was beautiful.

‘Oh wow, is that my voice?’ Ed wondered, clearing his throat, ‘It’s so smooth. That’s odd’.

Oswald turned the lights up gradually. Ed blinked but rubbed his eyes.

‘My eyes are blurry. I don’t think it’s the light though’.

Oswald went to Ed’s treasure box and whispered a basic repair spell over a pair of glasses he had taken from it.

‘Here’, he said, ‘Try these’.

Ed accepted the glasses and placed them on his face.

‘These are from my nest’, he laughed.

‘With new lenses’, Oswald said, offering a hand, ‘Can you stand?’

Ed reached out hesitantly, flexing his fingers experimentally and took hold of Oswald’s hand.

‘Fingers feel much stronger than feathers’, he observed, clenching his fist.

‘Please relax!’ Oswald said through gritted teeth, ‘You’re about to break mine!’

‘Oh! Sorry’, Ed said sheepishly, obeying instantly.

Oswald gently pulled back with his aching fingers and Ed rose to his new, flatter feet. He seemed about to topple backwards but corrected himself. He stood pigeon toed, knees facing inward but Oswald waited patiently as Ed manoeuvred his legs into a stance to match his. Once he was sure Ed was standing alright, Oswald let go of his hand.

‘Take a couple of steps for me’, he asked.

Ed took a deep breath and straightened, head held high. He took a step and collapsed onto the floor.  
Oswald moved forward automatically to help him but Ed waved a hand. He sat up and winced as he began to stand again.

‘Mental note: my knees bend the other way now’, he grumbled to himself.

Seeking to distract Ed from the setback and to give him something to work towards, Oswald waved a hand. A long mirror materialised out of thin air and floated just above the floor.

‘Come take a look at the new you’, Oswald invited as he went to the pile of neatly folded clothes on the vanity he had prepared for Ed.

Ed eyed himself critically in the mirror. On instinct, he lowered his head to his shoulder to groom self consciously only to find he had no beak or feathers. He began to do what he had often seen Oswald do in the morning and used his fingers to adjust his hair, combing it into the shape he wanted. Fingers truly were useful. He noticed the ring had found its way onto the last long finger of his left hand. He rotated it thoughtfully and looked down at how the robe he had woken up in was hanging off his thin frame.

‘Oh dear. I expected more muscles’, Ed said quietly but then added jokingly, ‘Then again, it’s not a ‘ring of miracles’ is it?’

‘You’re taller than I thought you’d be’, Oswald mused.

‘Does it bother you?’

‘No, it just means I’ll just have to let these clothes out a bit’.

‘They’re black’, Ed said, his disappointment obvious despite the quality of the materials and flattering cut Oswald had chosen for him.

‘Oh, right! You must be a bit sick of wearing black. How’s this instead?’

Oswald made a complicated series of hand gestures and clicked his fingers. The black of the suit instantly melted away into a vibrant green. The same colour as the magical aura of the ring. Ed’s eyes lit up at the transformation.

‘Not every day a crow can dress as a peacock’, he said with a chuckle, ‘Speaking of which-‘

Ed sang a few, halting words which Oswald was surprised to identify as originating from a lullaby he enjoyed. He hadn’t realised that Ed had learnt it.

‘Your singing voice has definitely improved’, Oswald joked to cover up his disappointment as Ed stopped singing, ‘I wonder if you’ll still snore’.

Ed rubbed his throat thoughtfully. The tune had been so different from his usual harsh cawing but at least Oswald had approved. As he watched Oswald begin to meticulously lay the clothes out on the bed (in what Ed assumed was ascending order), Ed was struck by a realization.

‘It’s strange’, he said, ‘I never noticed as a crow but you’re so…’

‘Weird looking?’ Oswald deadpanned, ‘Don’t worry, most humans notice that’.

‘No! Not at all actually’, Ed said, carefully walking towards Oswald for a closer look, ‘You look more like a bird than I do right now’.

‘Was that a compliment?’

‘It was supposed to be. Your hair looks like feathers’.

He reached out instinctively and ran his fingers through Oswald’s crest like hair. Oswald flinched and looked at Ed in surprise. Ed withdrew his hand immediately, startled at the reaction.

‘Did I do something wrong?’

Oswald shook his head vigorously.

‘No, no. I should have warned you. Humans have…different opinions on if they like to be touched. You just surprised me’.

‘Sorry’ Ed said again, feeling foolish, ‘I thought since you didn’t mind me grooming you when I was a bird I-‘

Oswald held up a hand, cursing his automatic recoil. The last thing he wanted was to make Ed uncomfortable in his new skin. The sensation had just been too unfamiliar for him to process. The only other person who had ever touched him so gently had been his mother.

‘I don’t mind Ed! Really! Like I said you just surprised me. I never said it was unpleasant’.

‘Do you want to touch me in exchange?’

Oswald burst out laughing at the blunt invitation.

‘What’s so funny?!’ Ed bristled, ‘You pet me all the time! Just like this!’

Ed grabbed hold of Oswald’s hand and ran it through his own hair. He shivered at the sensation and gave a compulsive soft moan. He sat on the bed, careful not to sit on the clothes or break contact with Oswald’s hand.

‘Are you alright?’ Oswald asked, intrigued by the reaction.

‘Yes’, Ed said, trying to ignore how nodding made him feel even warmer thanks to Oswald’s fingers still ruffling his hair, ‘it’s just…sensitive’.

He hadn’t expected the usual pleasure he received from Oswald’s strokes to be so amplified in his changed form. He had least expected to be able to hide it better!

Oswald, wanting to reassure Ed that they were still connected despite the unfamiliar situation, stoked his head as he always had. Ed inclined his head into the gesture and Oswald smiled as Ed subconsciously made a noise in his throat akin to a crow’s caw. Oswald knew what the noise meant: More. Give me more.

‘Is it true that birds touch each other on the head when they want to-‘

‘Yes’, Ed interjected frankly.

Oswald swallowed hard but did not stop his ministrations. He thought of all the times he had petted Ed absent mindedly and also of all the times Ed had returned the favour, nuzzling Oswald’s hair or pecking painlessly at rogue hairs he had noticed.

Did this mean what Oswald thought it meant?

‘D-do you want me to stop?’ he asked haltingly.

‘No. No I don’t’, Ed sighed and bit his lip as he moved slightly.

Oswald noticed Ed’s knees grind together and realised what must be happening.

‘Ed, how do you feel right now?’

Ed’s half hooded eyes gazed into Oswald’s, pupils blown wide.

‘You’re my master. You can sense it, can’t you?’

He placed his hand over Oswald’s. Oswald loved how warm it felt over his.

‘Please tell me you know how I feel?’ Ed asked, a pleading undercurrent in both his voice and glistening eyes.

‘I do’, Oswald breathed.

‘I-I’ve dreamt about this before’, Ed said, ‘Being this close to you’.

‘I know’.

‘How?’

‘Because I’ve seen it. I-I’ve felt it’.

Oswald could feel his own arousal pulse as memories swam to the surface of his mind. One of the side effects nobody ever warned you about was that having a familiar often meant your dreams intertwined. The most recent glimpse Oswald had experienced of one of Ed’s dreams had been distinctly explicit. Even more so because Oswald had been in it but not in his own body.  
He remembered the softness of Ed’s feathers as Ed had mounted him, both of their wings flapping in a desperate flurry as Ed had made love to him. His claws grinding into the dirt in ecstasy and the inhuman, savage yet ecstatic cry from his own feathered throat as Ed had mated him. Made him his. As he looked at Ed, Oswald could see that was what he had been thinking of too. He didn’t need a magic connection to tell him that.

‘Why didn’t you say anything?’ Ed asked shakily.

Oswald sank onto the bed, hands now clasped on his lap to keep them from trembling.

‘Because I knew I couldn’t transform myself into a crow to-to be with you. No matter how badly I want you. My bad leg couldn’t handle the change in knee position. I can barely walk never mind fly. But I didn’t know how to ask you to…’

‘Be with you this way?’

Oswald nodded glumly. He quivered as he felt Ed’s hands take hold of his cheeks. Dark eyes met green and for a moment, Oswald thought he could see the inscrutable crow within Ed’s dark pupils.

‘Oswald, did you think I was bringing you all those trinkets for fun? You never had to ask. I was asking. Practically begging as a matter of fact’.

Oswald lowered Ed’s hands but kept hold of them.

‘Ed’, he said sombrely, ‘Just before this goes any further, further than we can come back from, tell me the truth. Do you feel this way just because I’m your master?’

‘No. It’s because you’re you’.

‘Then why me? There are plenty of other birds in the sky. Why do you want someone like me? Looking like this, you could have anyone you wanted’.

Ed laughed humourlessly but Oswald could tell it was not directed at him.

‘Who would ever want a raggedy, scrawny crow as a familiar instead of a sleek black cat? I want you because we’re the same but different in all the right ways. I’ve learnt so much from you. Done things I’ve never dreamed of’.

‘What things?’

‘Well I’m about to do something very experimental. If you’ll let me?’

Oswald nodded, heart pounding.

Ed closed his eyes and concentrated. 

Oswald looked down to see Ed’s fingers beginning to lengthen and flatten. He let go of Ed’s feathers as they continued to grow. Ed’s back arched and the robe fell from him, exposing his narrow pale chest even as it continued to protect his modesty beneath. Ed sighed as he raised his arms up high as they completed their transformation back into wings. Oswald marvelled at Ed’s control of the ring even as he admired the beauty of the ethereal change Ed had made. Apart from the wings, he remained human: a male harpy proudly displaying his plumage. As the feathers caught the light, undertones of purple and green shone through their black veneer.  
Oswald was so enraptured with the sight that, before he knew it, Ed had enfolded him within his wings, his chin resting contentedly and protectively on top of Oswald’s head. Oswald embraced Ed with shaking hands, feeling Ed’s hurried heartbeat beneath his cheek.  
He had never felt so safe. So loved.

Ed’s unseen voice drifted down from above, akin to the reassuring voice Oswald had always heard within his mind.

‘I hope you know Oswald. I would do anything for you. You can always count on me’.

‘I always could’, Oswald replied, smiling through his joyful tears.


	43. Witch!Oswald and Familiar!Ed Part 02 (NSFW!)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> ishipa-lot-of-stuff said:  
> Please do a smutty follow up to witch!Oswald and familiar!Ed
> 
> Anonymous said:  
> OMG PLEASE DO A CONTUIATION OF FAMILIAR ED AND WITCH OSWALD!!!

Oswald cursed Barbara Kean as he ascended the front steps to his manor.

He and Ed had been having such a pleasant evening at the ‘Annual Magician’s Gala’. It was the first time in years that Oswald had accepted the invitation to his alma mater’s night of celebration. It was the first year he had a plus one to accompany him. Unfortunately, Barbara had been there too, her feline familiar Tabby curled around her shoulder and during dinner, she had made no secret that she knew exactly who had stolen her ring of transformation.   
When Tabby had venomously swiped a paw at Ed, he had leapt up, startled and let loose a loud, compulsive squawk that had drawn the eyes of everyone within the immediate vicinity. Ed had looked down at Oswald, aghast at his mistake, brown eyes momentarily flickering pitch black before he regained his composure. Barbara’s laugh had rung out like a death knell.

‘Is that why you stole it?’ Barbara had jeered, ‘Because there’s no way in Hell you could ever put a ring on a real man’s finger?’

Ed had abruptly left the room as the other guests had begun to laugh. Oswald had followed him immediately but had been too late to catch him. He had just about caught a glimpse of Ed’s outline against the night sky as he had flown away, retreating from the humiliation in his natural shape of a crow. Oswald had called the car and left immediately, unwilling to go back inside. Not without a suitably unpleasant curse prepared at least.

As Oswald opened the front door, he noticed the small window above the door was ajar. Ed’s usual point of entry. Oswald entered and saw dainty, bird footprints on the wooden floor, wet from the rain. Oswald waved the umbrella he had conjured and it vanished. He doffed his black travelling cloak lined with a feathered collar and it flew into the cloakroom, hooking itself on a waiting peg.  
Oswald could hear the crackling of a fire from the lounge and headed towards the sound. Ed was sitting on the arm of the sofa, gazing into the fire. His back was to Oswald and he was wearing Oswald’s golden house robe. Oswald knew Ed would be naked underneath. Ed had adapted to clothes quickly but Oswald knew he liked nothing better than walking around with nothing but the soft robe draped over his lean frame. He liked the way it glittered and how the texture felt against his skin.  
Oswald swallowed, trying to think of what to say and also ignore the emotions churning in his system.

‘Ed? Are you alright? You, uh, left in a bit of a hurry’.

A curt nod in response. Oswald licked his dry lips and continued despite his hammering heart.

‘I was worried when you…flew off that they might have upset you. If you want-that is, if it bothers you or you’ve changed your mind, we can-we can just pretend that nothing happened. Get rid of the ring and just go back to the way things were. You are the best friend I've ever had. I don't want to lose you. Please?’

Ed laughed softly.

‘We’re not friends’, Ed said, standing up, ‘And I’m not just your familiar. You and I both know we’re more than that’.

Ed turned to face Oswald, eyes downcast.

‘I don’t care what they say about us’, Ed said with a rueful smile, ‘I left because I was worried about embarrassing you further’.

Ed exposed his right arm and Oswald gasped. Ed had a crow’s wing instead of a human limb. Hearing a clicking noise, Oswald looked down to see Ed was barefoot. The claws on the end of his crow like feet clicked against the wooden floor as he approached. 

‘I felt my hand start to tingle during the party’, Ed explained, ‘And it just got worse and worse. I left because I knew I couldn’t hide it for much longer’. 

Oswald took hold of Ed’s wingtips, the ring of transformation heavy around one of his primary feathers. Oswald concentrated and muttered a spell of strengthening. Ed exhaled as the feathers began to retreat and thicken back into human fingers. As the change completed, Oswald examined the ring. He was dismayed to see it no longer seemed like a solid object. Instead, the formerly golden band was tarnished and flickering like electronic static.

‘It’s wearing off’, Oswald said and Ed nodded at the assessment.

‘It was fun while it lasted wasn’t it?’ he said resignedly, putting his arm back inside the sleeve of the robe.

‘There must be something we can do’, Oswald said, looking at Ed’s fingers as he flexed them.

‘An act of love to bind the spell as a substitute for the ring’, Ed said, ‘A physical bond’.

Oswald blinked as he realised the implications. Even though he had expected this kind of request for a while it was still jarring to hear it spoken aloud. Ever since Ed had been able to become human, they had often shared a bed (just as they had when Ed was still a bird sleeping on Oswald’s pillow) but always fully clothed and the few kisses they had shared had been bashful and brief. Oswald had been taking it slowly to give Ed time to acclimatise to his new shape but now that he knew time could potentially be painfully short, he felt a stab of regret.

‘I’ve been researching it’, Ed continued, heedless of Oswald’s racing thoughts, ‘But there could be side effects-’

‘Damn the side effects!’ Oswald snapped, ‘I know what we have to do’.

‘You’ve already researched this?’

Oswald nodded.

‘I was worried that…’

Oswald wilted under Ed’s intense stare, feeling foolish. Ed took hold of Oswald’s hand and Oswald noted how warm Ed’s fingers were as they enfolded his.

‘Oswald, please tell me’.

‘You know how I feel about you. The reason we haven’t done…’ Oswald sighed harshly at his inability to explain himself plainly, ‘’That’ already is my fault. I’ve never been with anyone before and I-I didn’t want to ruin things by not doing it right or-’

Ed held up a hand and Oswald stopped talking. His cheeks reddened in embarrassment at his own babbling.

‘It’ll be a new experience for me too’, Ed said seriously, then added with an impish grin, ‘But to be honest, I have done a lot of reading about it’.

Oswald laughed at Ed’s mischievous expression, surprised at how Ed always knew just how to make him feel better.

‘Is that so?’ Oswald asked.

‘If you ever wanted me in that way, I wanted to know what to do’, Ed said simply.

‘Why didn’t you tell me?’

‘Because I didn’t want to push you’, Ed said candidly, ‘I still don’t’.

‘Even if it meant you would lose this?’

Ed shrugged offhandedly but his smile was sad.

‘As long as I don’t lose you’, Ed said.

‘Then you’d better have me first’, Oswald said decisively.

‘Are you sure?’ Ed asked, taken aback at Oswald’s willingness.

‘Yes’, Oswald said, pulling Ed into an embrace, ‘And I have some ideas I think you’ll like’. 

**

‘When you said ‘love nest’, you meant it didn’t you?’ Ed said appreciatively.

Oswald spread his arms in a ‘ta-daa’ gesture as Ed admired the changes Oswald had made to his bedroom with his magic.   
Even though Ed knew they were indoors, from the walls and bedroom furniture that remained, they seemed to be standing beneath a forest canopy. A bright moon glinted through the leaves of the trees and golden lights floated through the air lazily like drifting fireflies. Ed felt grass beneath his feet and saw that Oswald had transformed his bed into a large nest composed of wicker and lined with soft, cotton like bedding and silk sheets. Oswald had even hung various glittering pieces from ribbons above the nest. Ed smiled as he saw they were various articles from his scavenged collection of treasures: bottlecaps, jewellery, translucent, bright candy wrappers all danced and twirled in the moonlight.

‘Does our resident nest expert approve?’ Oswald asked.

‘Definitely’, Ed said, taking Oswald’s hands.

As he had previously agreed with Oswald to prevent delays, Ed was wearing nothing but the usual housecoat and the fading ring of transformation. Oswald had done likewise, having selected his velvet travelling cloak as his only garment. They faced each other, both nervous but exhilarated.

‘Is the full moon to increase the power of the spell?’ Ed asked, glancing overhead.

‘It’s also for mood lighting’, Oswald said officiously, ‘Now, birds usually do a mating dance before getting down to business don’t they?’

Ed shook his head fondly at Oswald’s formal posture and ran his hands down his shoulders in a physical plea for his master to relax. This wasn’t about business. It was about pleasure. If their idea didn’t work and Ed did revert back to a crow, he wanted to remember this experience forever. 

‘I’ll take care of this part’, Ed said and began to sway back and forth, taking hold of Oswald’s hands.

He began to move Oswald around in concentric circles, gradually closing the distance between them. They hadn't had a chance to dance at the gala as they had hoped to. Oswald had practiced for days. Oswald let Ed lead, following him with at first halting but then smooth steps, trusting in Ed to keep his knee from failing him. Gratified at Oswald’s trust in him, Ed waited a few more minutes then asked:-

‘May I?’

Oswald nodded without hesitation and Ed slid the cloak from him in one effortless movement. Oswald’s skin almost seemed luminescent as it was gradually exposed beneath the moonlight.

‘How are you feeling?’ Ed asked.

‘Warm’, Oswald sighed, stepping out of his fallen cloak, ‘And kind of…tingly?’

‘Are you feeling as good as I am?’ Ed asked, noting the goosebumps rising on Oswald’s flesh.

Oswald stepped closer and Ed’s breath hitched as Oswald’s erection rubbed against the bulge in his own robe. Oswald reached out with deft fingers and pulled on the knot binding Ed’s robe. It fell open and Oswald reached inside, mimicking how Ed had disrobed him seconds earlier. He noted Ed’s generous length and offered a silent thanks to whatever magic or entity within the ring had granted him such a gift.

‘Does that answer your question?’ Oswald asked as Ed’s robe hit the floor.

Ed pulled Oswald close and began to kiss him. Their cocks rubbed against each other with a delicious friction, a tantalising appetiser for the experience ahead. Neither was in the mood to rush however as they explored each other’s faces and necks with their mouths. Ed traced Oswald’s neck veins with his tongue and as he rose, Oswald nipped Ed’s lips with his pointed teeth.

As they continued exploring each other, Ed felt a flickering movement behind him and realised his tail feathers had grown back. In the same instant he also realised the kind of ‘side effects’ that this ritual would cause and if it was about the bond between he and Oswald then Oswald would likely experience the same transformation. The thought of seeing Oswald transform excited Ed like nothing else. To see Oswald become more like him, to feel his feathers, to see his wings-!  
Ed moaned into the kiss and gently slid his tongue along Oswald’s closed lips, pleading for entry as he drew Oswald closer to him, their bodies now flush as they continued to make out.

Oswald moaned back as he felt Ed smile against his lips and a ticklish feeling between his ass cheeks. It emboldened him to part his lips and grant Ed full entry at last. Ed was more eager than he had anticipated! Oswald felt his face flush with arousal as Ed’s tongue lashed against his own, twinning and dancing: the dual sensations of the hot kiss mingling with the delicate tickling of Ed’s fingers on his tailbone.

Ed smiled knowingly as he detected a new sensation sliding between his hands as they cupped Oswald’s ass. Peeking over Oswald’s shoulder, he saw Oswald’s emerging tail feathers lengthen and bob in subconscious excitement as they finished growing. Oswald didn’t seem to have noticed, too focused on hungrily sucking Ed’s tongue. Ed drew back, his mind awash with the visual image of Oswald’s mouth around a more intimate part of his human anatomy.

Oswald looked up at him, cheeks ruddy beneath his pale, desirous eyes. Ed stroked Oswald’s cheek and watched his fingers leave white trails against the reddened flesh.

‘You’re so beautiful Oswald’, Ed said tenderly.

Oswald sighed and was startled to feel it catch in his throat, changing into a soft, avian croon. He laughed softly as he felt Ed continue to tickle the skin of his ass.

‘By the way, I think I’ve discovered one of the side effects’, Ed whispered conspiratorially.

Oswald realised Ed’s hands had slipped around and were now both resting on his hips. But then, what was behind him?

Ed smiled at Oswald’s widened eyes and ran his fingers along Oswald’s new tail. The effect was instant. Oswald gasped and his hips bucked, eyelids fluttering. Tilting his head back, he looked over his shoulder into a nearby wall mounted mirror.

‘It’s a good look for you’, Ed commented.

‘It-ah!-looks different to yours’, Oswald gasped, biting his lip as Ed continued to stroke his tail.  
He wondered hazily if this was payback for all the times he had touched Ed’s. Had it felt like this for him too?!

‘Of course it does’, Ed chuckled, bobbing his own tail feathers in self demonstration, ‘Plain, black plumage could never suit you’.

‘If I’m not a crow, then what am I?’

Ed kissed Oswald on the forehead and nuzzled his hair with his nose. Oswald crooned again instinctively. Ed knew they both knew why. Birds groomed each other’s heads before mating. Oswald’s positive reaction was welcome and intoxicating.

‘Mine’, Ed growled, ‘Get onto the bed’.

Oswald, aroused by Ed’s more dominant demeanour did as he was told. Carefully climbing into the nest, he got on all fours, his rear facing Ed. Placing a pillow beneath his damaged knee, Oswald wiggled his ass invitingly, his tail feathers rippling due to the movement.

‘Lift your tail for me’, Ed commanded, standing at the edge of the nest.

Oswald obeyed and quivered as he felt the cool air ruffle his new appendage and breeze against his waiting entrance. Ed reached down and picked up the lube that had been carefully placed beside the nest. Slathering the fingers of his right hand, he took hold of Oswald’s tail feathers with his left.  
Oswald gave a compulsive yet pleasurable caw at the rougher treatment as Ed held them out of the way. He began to run his index fingertip along the rim of Oswald’s entrance and Oswald was more than receptive, arching his back to grant Ed better access.

Ed shivered with exhilaration but then noticed a tingling increasing along his arms. Looking down, he saw goosebumps rise against his skin and black dots beginning to materialise. On Oswald’s arms, the same thing was happening. Their wings were beginning to form.

‘Ed’, Oswald said huskily, ‘I-I can feel-my arms are-oh God, it feels so nice!‘

‘I know. I know’, Ed said soothingly, ‘It’s happening to me too. Ah fuck...That feels so good'.

‘Hurry, please!’ Oswald said pleadingly, ‘Before you’re no longer able to-ah!’

The knuckle of Ed’s index finger slid inside the entrance easily. Oswald gritted his teeth at the unfamiliar sensation, grateful that he had stretched himself with magic beforehand to make his first time easier and more seamless. As the tingling on his arms intensified, he barely watched his finger beginning to flatten and lengthen, too focused on Ed’s decision to add another finger.

Ed meticulously pushed his fingers in and out, gradually probing deeper and deeper, carefully searching for just the right spot that would-  
Oswald gave a sudden, excited chatter and Ed noticed his wings give a sudden surge of growth. Ed gave the spot another experimental nudge and Oswald made the same noise, fingers clenching into the bedding. Ed sped up his ministrations, always being careful to hit the same spot and laughed as Oswald gave a full rendition of a magpie’s chattering call in response.   
Ed’s wings grew and grew, his human hands remaining but beginning to darken in hue and Ed watched, fascinated, as Oswald’s fingers metamorphosed into black claws, clenching into the velvety bedding beneath them.  
So, it seemed the spell was allowing them to retain their hands. Intriguing…

Ed began to feel a tingling in his fingers and pulled his hand back. As his fingers emerged, glistening, from Oswald’s entrance with a satisfyingly slick noise, Ed’s nails curved and lengthened into dark claws. It seemed fingering was now off the table.

Oswald gave a tuneful sigh, the exhalation carrying the barest hint of birdsong. As he glanced back over his shoulder at Ed, the sleek, dark feathers that had replaced his spiky hair rose questioningly. Ed, conscious of Oswald’s damaged knee, gently began to turn Oswald over so he was on his back.  
Ed hissed with relish as the pointed tips of Oswald’s hand claws traced along his back, an erotic contrast to the velvet like feeling of Oswald’s wings against his back.

As Ed lowered Oswald down onto his back, Oswald sensually pread his now fully developed wings wide.   
Ed admired the erotic sight beneath him.  
Oswald wasn’t a crow. He was a magpie.   
Clever, dazzling and magical.  
Oswald stretched languidly, savouring Ed’s attention and his feathers caught the light.   
Ed’s covetous eyes lit up at the glimmering undertones of green, purple and blue dancing along the silken surfaces that ended in dazzling white feathers.

Oswald’s cock was hard and twitching as he rolled his hips in invitation, luxuriating in the softness of the nest lining beneath his ass cheeks and tail feathers. Soft was all well and good but now he wanted something hard. He was ready for it. Gazing up into Ed’s eyes, Oswald watched blackness swirl like ink over the brown human irises: a warm, dark hunger swallowing their softness. Their shade matched the black wings that had eclipsed Ed’s arms as he lifted Oswald back up, his clawed hands supporting his back. Oswald spread his legs wide instinctively, knowing and welcoming what was about to happen. As Ed drew Oswald closer, claws entwined in his head feathers, Oswald could see his own reflection rise to the surface in Ed’s pitch black eyes.  
Ed only had eyes for him.

Ed knelt and trilled as Oswald’s legs rested on either side of his hips and his clawed hands linked behind his neck. He had never seen anything as handsome as the stunning harpy now looking at him with those glass green, lustful eyes. When Oswald tilted his head in an avian display of curiosity, Ed got the message loud and clear: what are you waiting for?   
Ed delighted in giving the answer.

Oswald screeched in both pleasure and pain as Ed suddenly entered him savagely. The pain of entry erupted into an incredible feeling of being filled completely, his passage accommodating Ed’s generous length, and Oswald threw his head back as Ed began to thrust like a man (or bird) possessed. The feeling of being desired so fiercely fanned Oswald’s own haze filled arousal and he soon found himself raising his hips in tandem with Ed’s frenzied pounding. Oswald ignored the protestations of his aching knee as he drew Ed closer and closer: his cock inside him felt so damn good! A small voice in his head told him this might be wrong: that Oswald was effectively engaging in interspecies sex with his own familiar but Oswald gritted his teeth and mentally shouted the voice down. He and Ed were two predators enjoying each other completely and how could it be wrong when it felt so fucking right?!

Ed, overwhelmed by the instinctive urge to claim the beautiful creature beneath him, didn’t even notice as he began to croon deep in his throat as he pounded into Oswald’s deliciously tight passage again and again. He felt as if he were dreaming. Sex as a bird had never felt this good or lasted this long. He didn’t know if he was truly a bird or a man and he didn’t care. All he cared about was that he was mating Oswald, the love of his life, and it was glorious!

Oswald took hold of his neglected cock, the down that had replaced his pubic hair soft against his knuckles as he began to pump. He swirled his thumb against his head and rubbed hard against the slit as he matched his pumps to Ed’s thrusts.   
Ed noticed what he was doing and drew back just enough to watch Oswald pleasure himself. Feeling pride at the slick feeling of precum as the head of Oswald’s cock graced his stomach, Ed interlaced his clawed fingers with Oswald’s. Oswald gave a musical cry of sheer erotic overload as he was stimulated from both the front and the back, his body alight with new sensations and overcome with love for his familiar turned mate.

The sight of Oswald wanting him was everything Ed had ever dreamt of and the sounds he was making was like a siren song driving him to the edge. Despite longing for the experience to never end, Ed simultaneously found it impossible to resist! He rammed into Oswald again and again, the walls of Oswald’s passage seeming to draw him in deeper and deeper as if they would never let him go.

Both felt the precipice rise up before them but both felt so weightless, so carried away on the waves of pleasure, they knew they would fly. With one final pump, Oswald came, screeching like the bird of prey he was and Ed joined him in an exultation as he emptied his seed into Oswald and felt Oswald’s cum trickle down over and between his claws.

Ed hunched over Oswald, enveloping him protectively in his wings as they rode out their mutual orgasm, huddled together beneath the moonlight. Ed looked into Oswald’s eyes and smiled deliriously. Even if they only had tonight, he would always remember this. 

Oswald, shaking and overwhelmed, gave his lips to Ed’s in a single, gentle, loving kiss.

As if on cue, Ed’s ring burst into golden light and pleasure surged through both men like lightning.  
They collapsed into the softness of the nest, Ed clasping Oswald to his breast as black feathers rained down around them. As Ed gingerly loosened his hold on Oswald, he saw their avian features were swiftly vanishing and within seconds, they were both fully human once more. Holding up his hand as the last of his feathers vanished, Ed saw the ring had gone. In its place was a dark imprint of a feather encircling his finger. He looked down at Oswald to see Oswald show him his own finger bore an identical brand.   
A mark of ownership: a sign of their bond.  
The spell had worked.

‘True love’s kiss’, Oswald whispered, ‘Powerful stuff’.

‘Always does the trick’, Ed replied, kissing his mate on the forehead.


	44. Witch!Oswald and Familiar!Ed Part 3

‘Nothing on TV?’ Ed asked.

He was sitting on the pillow, wings folded as Oswald conjured up a window in the air. Oswald lay back once the portal displayed an image of Barbara’s house. Within the window, they could see her ranting at someone down the phone. Oswald had muted the sound, the better to keep he and Ed’s viewing undetected. Oswald cricked his fingers and began to mutter a complex string of words. Ed’s feathers rose as magic began to build in the air along with anticipation. 

‘I thought we would make our own entertainment tonight’, Oswald replied, pausing his litany to make a strange series of finger movements.

Following Barbara’s humiliation of Oswald at the dinner the week before, Ed and Oswald had both decided her disrespect could not go unpunished. So, they had researched and decided on, not a painful or debilitating curse but rather, a spell that would make her think twice about casting negative aspersions about others.  
If Barbara couldn’t say something nice, they would stop her saying anything at all.

Ed watched eagerly as Oswald finished the spell with a flourish and purple sparks rushed through the portal. They surrounded Barbara like a swarm of fireflies but she didn’t seem to notice.  
As they vanished however, she couldn’t help but notice the effects.  
Barbara suddenly retched, a black feather falling from her mouth as she struggled to speak. She coughed and more fell from between her gaping lips along with sour saliva. She dropped the phone and tried to clap a hand over her mouth, more feathers pressing against her fingers as she staggered around, mouthing various swear words as she struggled to figure out what was happening.  
Despite the smirk on his face, Oswald rubbed his neck empathetically, imagining the scratchy feeling of the feathers worming their way up past Barbara’s tonsils. The spell was simple: any time Barbara cursed or said something nasty, the spell would take effect. The misery she was suffering was entirely her own fault for screaming at whoever had been on the other end of the phone.  
Sure enough, the tickly sensation at the back of Barbara’s throat triggered her gag reflex and the spectating man and bird made twin noises of disgust as Barbara began to vomit over herself: black feathers sticking to the foul mess being expunged from her stomach.  
Oswald and Ed looked at each other and burst out into hysterical laughter.

Oswald’s guffaws died away and Ed’s cackling segued into a delighted avian snicker as the portal vanished with a glimmer of purple sparks.

‘That was much better than TV’, Ed said, wiping his eye with a wingtip, ‘Maybe that will teach people not to keep making the same mistake’.

Ed shivered as Oswald took hold of his wing and gently kissed the end of one of his feathers.

‘And what mistake is that?’ Oswald whispered, taking the tip into his mouth.

There was a bright green flash and Oswald smiled appreciatively as he saw a very human (and very naked) Ed appear where he had been sitting as a bird a second before. He released the tip of Ed’s finger from his mouth with an audible popping noise.

‘Underestimating us’, Ed smirked, pulling Oswald closer in the bed, enfolding him in his arms.

Oswald laughed at Ed’s playfulness and laid his head on Ed’s shoulder.

‘Do you remember when we first shared a bed?’ Oswald whispered, tracing a spiral pattern onto Ed’s chest fondly, ‘The day we met?’

‘I remember that you smelt awful’, Ed joked, kissing Oswald’s forehead and wincing as Oswald thumped him playfully in retaliation.

**

Ed congratulated himself on a successful day. As he flew over the buildings of Gotham, he counted the dollar bills clutched in his clawed foot. Twenty dollars. Not bad for a quick snipe from an open cash register. He was reflecting on the strange way that bits of paper held such varied significance for humans when he caught sight of something white glinting in the mouth of an open sewer pipe. Ed, his eye attuned to flashy objects, decided to go in for a closer look.  
As he hovered overhead, Ed was intrigued to see the thing in the sewer pipe was a penguin. Having seen them in Gotham Zoo and judging from the markings, he easily identified it as the ‘Chinstrap’ species.  
He circled lower and examined it. It was lying on its front, breathing heavily with its chin to the ground. It seemed to be in a state of utter exhaustion and the reason why quickly became apparent. Blood caked its shoulder, staining its grimy white breast a vivid red.  
Ed landed a couple of feet away, tucked the dollar bills under a nearby box for safety and warily approached. He wondered if it was someone’s escaped pet or a liberated inmate from Gotham Zoo. If it had escaped and was unused to living on the streets, it would explain the injury.  
As Ed crept closer, shaking his head at the stench from the pipe, the dirt smeared penguin stirred. One abnormally pale eye flew open and Ed was forced to flutter backwards when the bird snapped at him angrily. It tried to rise but fell back down with a cry of pain.

‘Watch it!’ Ed automatically squawked, ‘I’m not going to hurt you!’

He rolled his eyes as he realised he had spoken in human. There was no way a penguin would understand that! Ed was busy trying to theorise if such an exotic species would understand him even in bird language when the penguin replied to him in human.

‘Help me’, the penguin pleaded, wincing in pain, ‘Please’.

**

‘Don’t worry’, Ed said, noticing how the penguin kept glancing nervously at the door, ‘There aren’t any humans here. Most of them abandoned this place a few days ago. I think someone else has bought the building’.

The room wasn’t warm (Ed had yet to figure out the finesse of using a central heating system) but at least it was dry. Once Ed was done tending to his patient, he would close the window leading to the fire escape they had used to enter the apartment. Thankfully, the bed the penguin was lying on had been right beside the window allowing the exhausted bird to collapse straight onto it after the strenuous ordeal of climbing the fire escape in his condition. Ed was grateful they had happened upon a full rain barrel and the penguin had been able to wash off the stinking refuse clinging to his feathers before entering. Just because Ed was a crow did not mean he was unhygienic.

The penguin gave a soft squawk of relief as Ed finished extracting the last piece of magical quartz from his shoulder. Ed spat it out onto the floor and licked the blood from his beak. It tasted tangy on his tongue. He cocked his head as he analysed the wound and deemed it clean. He reached for the towel he had held under a nearby tap and with a jerk of his head, lifted it over the penguin’s shoulder to try and clean the wound. It wasn’t perfect but Ed didn’t know what else he could do without opposable thumbs. At least the wound seemed to have been caused by a standard ‘ballistic’ spell: a simple spell only designed to hurt, devoid of poison or extra, unpleasant effects.

‘How can you speak?’ the penguin asked.

‘An unforeseen side effect from scavenging from the Gotham Academy for Thaumaturgical Studies’ trash heap’, Ed said, grooming a stray feather from the penguin’s shoulder, ‘You would not believe what those wizards throw out. What about you?’

‘I don’t remember’, the penguin said evasively.

Ed didn’t push the issue.

‘Are you hungry?’ Ed asked.

The penguin nodded weakly.

'Wait here', Ed said, flying outside.

‘I haven’t got much choice’, the penguin said dolefully, regarding its shoulder.

A few seconds later, Ed returned, a fish head in his beak purloined from one of the trash cans in the alley. He dropped it in front of the penguin but was surprised to see the bird flinch away, beak clicking distastefully at the sight.

‘I thought penguins liked fish?’ Ed said, sniffing at the head, ‘Sorry’.

‘I’m not really-’ the penguin began but then seemed to catch himself, ‘Not this kind of fish. I eat cooked food’.

Ed crooned in realization. He picked up the fish head and dropped it in the trash as he flew to the kitchen counter. He knocked a phone off the hook with a quick jab of his beak and began to meticulously press buttons with one clawed foot.

‘What are you doing?’ the penguin enquired, a note of wonder in his voice.

‘Getting cooked food’, Ed smiled, feeling gratified at both penguin’s impressed look and the tuneful ringing as the call connected.

**

‘How did you learn how to do that?’ the penguin asked, swallowing a shrimp.

The strange, talking crow was perched on the edge of a plastic container full of noodles, carefully slurping one up without getting sauce on his feathers. He clicked his beak like a pair of scissors to cut the noodle and gulped it down before answering.

‘Humans do it all the time. What makes it so easy is that they spend all their time trying not to talk to other humans. They probably just think a shut-in lives here or something’.

The penguin nodded, eyes drifting to the door once more. The crow’s execution of the scheme had been akin to a carefully choreographed ballet. When they had heard the Chinese delivery man knock the door, the crow had simply passed the cash through the mailbox and asked the man to leave the food outside and keep the change. The man, obviously used to the arrangement had obeyed and once his heavy footsteps had receded down the hall, the crow had jumped down on the door handle and pulled the food inside. Simple yet elegant and extremely effective.

‘It must be hard being a bird that can talk’, the penguin said, pecking at a prawn cracker.

‘Oh, I can still talk to other crows but all they ever want to talk about is the weather’, the crow joked, ignoring the small melancholy twinge he felt at the question, ‘I guess you feel the same around other pen-’

‘Don’t you ever get lonely?’ the penguin interrupted. 

‘Sometimes I suppose but not right now’.

The crow nudged the last piece of crispy chicken towards the penguin who accepted it gratefully.

‘My name’s Ed by the way’, Ed continued, ‘It’s short for Edward Nygma’.

‘You gave yourself a surname?’

‘Why not?’ Ed said, flying up onto the bed, ‘Humans have them and it just seemed appropriate’.

The penguin got to its own feet and gingerly waddled to join Ed on the bed. Ed noted the odd way it’s ankle turned. An old injury, Badly healed. The penguin had obviously led an interesting life.

‘What’s your name?’ Ed asked as the penguin lay on the bed.

‘People call me ‘Penguin’’.

‘I don’t care about ‘people’’, the crow said, nestling down beside the penguin in an avian display of comfort and companionship, ‘What do you call yourself?’

The penguin looked away, an odd expression on his face but answered the question.

‘Oswald. Oswald Cobblepot’.

**

It took a few weeks for Oswald to recover and, despite his obvious sympathy for his newfound friend’s pain, Ed loved having someone to talk to. Oswald had knowledge on a surprising range of subjects and was always happy to answer any of Ed’s questions. They spent many days just watching TV and discussing various topics while Oswald recuperated. He healed faster than Ed had expected but when Ed had made a joke it was like magic, Oswald had not laughed.  
That was when Oswald had told Ed that magic was the cause of his current situation. Oswald was a wizard’s familiar and his master had picked a fight with the wrong man. His master had last been seen plummeting into Gotham Bay and Oswald had been forced to flee for his life, ending up in the sewer pipe where Ed had found him. Ed had thrilled when he had seen Oswald’s saddened expression change to one of desire and anger.  
Oswald wanted revenge and Ed was happy to help him get it.

**

Ed didn’t like cats so when he had heard that Oswald had designated one of the vile creatures as his target, he took to his part in the plan eagerly.  
Her name was Azrael and she was a wizard’s familiar making her more intelligent (and cruel) than the standard feline. Ed relished the challenge and so it was that he and Oswald infiltrated the backyard of a prestigious mansion, Oswald slipping into the swimming pool to wait for Ed’s signal. The black Persian in question was a highly strung and savage creature, easily provoked to anger by mockery. It had been child’s play for Ed to rouse the cat to a vengeful fury and she had given chase, running from the gala she and her master was attending out into the garden.  
As planned, Ed had landed on the edge of the swimming pool and the cat had leapt for the bird, too focused on her prize to concentrate on the deep water. Ed had taken wing and Azrael had plummeted into the pool, vanishing beneath the water. She emerged from the water a second later, spluttering and soaked, anger blazing in her eyes as the crow jeered and cackled from his perch atop a pergola.  
Azrael had little time to reflect on her revenge though as she suddenly felt something seize her ankle and drag her back under the water. She yowled frantically, water rushing into her gaping mouth as she began to drown, legs kicking futilely. As she looked down into the depths, she saw a blurry black and white shape beneath her and blood rising from her ankle seized in its serrated beak.  
Ed watched, idly moving from foot to foot on his perch as the bubbles rising to the pool’s surface began to dissipate, replaced by a thick cloud of blood. Followed soon afterwards by a floating, black carcass, its fur matted and shiny.  
While waiting for Oswald to emerge, Ed noticed a commotion inside the gala through the window and saw a crowd of concerned people surrounding a man who had apparently collapsed onto the floor, spasming wildly. Ed knew enough about wizards and their familiars to know that the man was obviously Azrael’s owner, experiencing the severance of their mystic bond. Such an experience was supposedly deeply traumatic and, from what Ed could see, obviously physically draining.  
Ed was distracted from the spectacle by Oswald emerging from the pool, white breast and face stained with fresh blood despite the water. As Ed swooped down to join the penguin on the ground, Oswald spat out a gobbet of blood. Ed pecked at it idly as Oswald wiped his beak on some nearby grass. As Ed had taken flight and Oswald had slipped back beneath the hedge to escape, Ed realised the blood had tasted the same as Oswald’s had. 

**

‘You’re leaving’.

Oswald ruffled his feathers in surprise at Ed’s quietly accusing tone. He took his flipper from the door handle and turned slowly. Ed regarded him from the bed, where they usually slept together. Oswald cursed himself for arrogantly thinking he had been able to sneak off without Ed noticing. Ed always noticed everything.

‘Ed, I need to tell you something’, Oswald said, the words catching in his throat, ‘I’m-I’m not-‘

Ed held up a wing like a human holding up an arresting hand and reached beneath the mattress. He withdrew a newspaper clipping in his beak and flew closer, showing it to Oswald.  
Oswald scanned it and sighed heavily. It discussed how Galavan had toppled the fearsome wizard known as ‘Oswald Cobblepot’ AKA ‘The Penguin’ by defeating him in a wizard’s duel. Following the duel, Oswald had fled, jumping into the river to escape justice and remained at large. There was a photograph of Galavan smiling for the camera. A black Persian rested in his lap.

‘So, you can read too’, Oswald observed drily, ‘Of course you can’.

‘I already know everything’, Ed said, lowering the clipping, ‘So you may as well show me’.

Oswald nodded resignedly and spoke the necessary incantation. He gave a cry and doubled over. Ed moved forward, concerned but Oswald held up a flipper to stop him interfering with the process.  
As Ed watched, Oswald’s flippers split into long fingers and his head feathers moulted into a crest like head of black, spiky hair. His back arched as his legs lengthened and the webbing between his toes vanished. His beak receded into a pallid, human face and his avian croon evolved into a human moan at the strain of the transformation. His feathers fell from his growing body, bathing his lean frame in a cloak of black and white feathers that drifted from his body onto the floor.  
Only his eyes remained the same: pale green and intense.  
As the change ended, Oswald remained kneeling amidst a pool of monochrome feathers, shivering as he looked at Ed, naked regret on his face. He turned and showed Ed his shoulder. A dark, bruise like mark was all that remained of the bullet wound.  
Ed said nothing, just stared and after a few seconds, Oswald got to his feet. He staggered, his bad leg spasming. Catching himself on a nearby chair, he spread his pale arms wide and clothing materialised on his body: a long, black cloak over a stylish black suit with the only piece of colour a purple gem set into his tie pin.  
Completing his transformation, he stood, awaiting Ed’s reaction.

‘Why kill the cat?’ Ed asked, ‘Not that I’m complaining’.

‘I needed to weaken Galavan’, Oswald explained, touching his shoulder, ‘Because of this, I didn’t have enough magic to change back on my own so I needed her blood to recharge. How long have you known?’

‘Since I picked that stuff out of your shoulder. I tasted the magic in your blood. Saw right through the feathers’.

‘I’m sorry Ed’, Oswald said quietly.

‘For what?’ Ed asked, cocking his head in surprise. 

‘I thought you would be angry with me for lying to you’.

Ed gave an odd cackling noise but Oswald now knew him well enough to recognise laughter when he heard it.

‘You didn’t lie’, Ed shrugged his feathered shoulders, ‘Crows don’t put much stock in appearances. Penguin or man: you’re still Oswald to me. My friend’.

Oswald smiled gratefully and undid his tie pin. He pried the amethyst loose and set it on the kitchen counter at Ed’s feet.

‘I want you to have this’, Oswald said, ‘For your collection. As proof of our friendship and as thanks for your help’.

‘Tempting but no’.

Oswald blinked, confused at Ed’s refusal of the shiny bauble. The sizeable collection of shimmering knick-knacks in Ed’s nest had made Oswald think that Ed would appreciate the jewel. Then again, it didn’t seem to cover all that Ed had done for him.

‘Is there anything else I can do to repay you?’ Oswald asked, trying to think of any relevant spells to give Ed whatever he might ask for.

‘Take me with you. As your familiar’.

Oswald felt his heart leap at the request but concern tarnished his happiness. 

‘Are you sure?’ Oswald asked, ‘It’s going to be dangerous’.

Ed flew from the table and perched on Oswald’s shoulder. Oswald smiled at how right it felt. How naturally Ed fit with him. Birds of a feather. He sighed happily as Ed nuzzled into his neck, the soft feathers warm against his chilled skin.

‘I think you mean ‘exciting’’, Ed smirked, ‘Shall we? Master?’


	45. Hallucination!Oswald (NSFW!)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> berrysoka asked:
> 
> Another fic idea : the hallucination of Oswald singing was not the last that night. Ed can't sleep because he keeps hallucinating Oswald trying to turn him on using different common kinks and fantasms. I let his success or his failure to your imagination.

‘I’m trying to sleep’, Ed said.

‘And you’re failing’, came the reply.

Ed sighed heavily and glared at the pill box on his nightstand. He had anticipated insomnia would be a side effect of using them. What he had not anticipated was company. His hallucination of Oswald was standing beside the bed, arms folded, staring smugly down at him. Thankfully he seemed to be lacking the usual tepid water stained clothes and assorted sealife.

Ed tried to ignore the hot flush he was feeling. Another unwelcome side effect.  
One that Oswald, as part of Ed’s own brain, was keenly aware of and obviously just as keen to exploit.

Even as Ed turned over, Oswald was waiting at the other side of the bed. Ed growled. There was no escape. How were you supposed to escape your own-

‘Desires? Subconscious? Wet dreams?’ Oswald offered helpfully, concluding Ed’s thought for him.

‘Worst enemy’, Ed corrected, rolling his eyes.

‘I think we both know who your worst enemy really is Ed’, Oswald laughed.

Ed blinked hard as the dark bedroom was suddenly bathed in a sultry, red light. He smacked his pillow with a fist. It was happening again: another song and dance routine designed to get under his skin!

‘I know how much you love a game of dress up’, Oswald whispered.

Ed looked at Oswald defiantly, ready for whatever revue his hallucination had decided to perform for him, only for his jaw to drop at the sight that greeted him.

Oswald twirled a black umbrella before gradually raising it to reveal himself. He was wearing a black corset tied with silk purple ribbons and tight black briefs with fishnet tights covering his pale legs. Ed’s eyes drifted down to the source of a steady tapping against the wooden floor and saw Oswald was wearing black high heels. Oswald winked at him, black eyeliner and smoky eyeshadow making his eyes seem as if they were glowing in the darkness.

‘With your leg injury, you could never wear shoes like that or move so smoothly’, Ed said in a deliberately unimpressed tone, trying to ignore how lean Oswald’s legs were or how he was gradually removing one elbow length white glove with his teeth.

‘Too much for you?’ Oswald asked, casting one glove, then the other away, ‘Perhaps something more…au naturel?’

Oswald twirled the umbrella once more and after a few seconds, cast it away.

This time, he was naked save for a perfect replica of Ed’s oversized robe. It hung open, Oswald’s numerous scars shiny against the pale flesh of his torso. Ed was surprised to see no wound on Oswald’s stomach but swiftly decided it was an improvement over seeing the usual gaping, bloody hole. Oswald shrugged and the robe fell to pool around his ankles.  
Ed lay on his back and stared at the ceiling but could feel Oswald’s eyes on him. Staring into him as they always had.

‘Why so shy?’ Oswald asked, ‘It's nothing you haven't seen before’.

Ed sat up and rubbed his face wearily. Yes, he had seen Oswald like that before. When he had undressed him after his ordeal in the woods. The act had been purely mechanical but Ed’s photographic memory had carefully filed every detail. A skill that his brain was now using to torment him. Oswald had been injured and dying and yet still prideful. Too stubborn to die despite his heart being broken. Having nothing and yet clawing back up, refusing to stay down. Ed had admired that, seen beauty in that…

Sensing Oswald’s expectant gaze, Ed said:-

‘I wasn't interested then and I told you I wasn’t interested at the docks. Guess what? I’m not interested now’.

Ed flinched as Oswald suddenly surged forward. Oswald invaded his personal space but Ed felt no breath on his face despite their proximity. He could see his shocked face in Oswald’s dark, diluted pupils as a slow smile traced across Oswald’s face.

‘You can't lie to yourself Ed’, Oswald said and looked down knowingly.

Ed tried to divert attention away from the warmth brewing in his loins. What had been a cinder was becoming stoked into a fire.

‘Looks like impotence isn't one of the side effects’, Oswald commented, ‘Just give in and you'll sleep like a baby. I won't tell if you won't’.

Ed looked away and Oswald laughed, obviously relishing the prospect of a challenge.

‘Maybe you just need more convincing’, he said, drawing away and standing again.

‘There's nothing you can say to-‘

‘Oh, I'm not going to 'say' anything’, Oswald said huskily, ‘I'm going to show you’.

Ed was startled to see a copy of him appear beside Oswald, dressed in his old clothes from his time at the GCPD. The sight of him turned Ed’s stomach but what Oswald did transformed his nausea into butterflies.

He watched as Oswald stroked Edward’s chest with one, lean finger, using it to flick his tie. Edward’s jaw dropped at the attention as Oswald began to touch him, running his hands along his arms and chest.

‘So adorable’, Oswald purred, side eyeing Ed as he fawned over his past self, ‘So innocent’.

‘You didn’t think so at the time’, Ed griped, eyes following Oswald’s hands as they ran over Edward.

‘I didn’t do this at the time either’, Oswald said smugly.

Edward was yanked down into a passionate kiss and Ed gasped at the sight. Oswald’s kiss was pure hunger as he sucked on Edward’s tongue and bit his swollen lips. Edward’s hands drifted around Oswald and pulled him closer, his palms resting on Oswald’s pert ass cheeks. Ed put his hands over his ears to try and stifle the sounds of lustful moaning coming from both participants.  
But that left his eyes uncovered.

Oswald licked his pink, glistening lips as he drew back and reached up. Edward was gasping, his eyes half hooded as Oswald removed his glasses. Ed could hear a seemingly endless litany of ‘oh dear, oh dear’ spilling from his double’s mouth. Oswald cast the glasses aside and whilst Ed noticed them vanish in mid air, his eyes were fixed on the spectacle unfolding before him.  
Oswald was kneeling down in front of Edward, unbuckling his belt as he deliberately side-eyed Ed. Edward was looking down at Oswald in disbelief and gave a hoarse gasp as Oswald reached inside his trousers and stroked the hard bulge between his legs.

Before Ed had fully processed what was happening, Edward’s cock was in Oswald’s waiting and eager mouth. Edward began to babble, his too innocent expression flabbergasted as he shuddered at the alien yet erotic, tantalizing situation he found himself in.

‘Oh dear, oh dear, oh…oh’.

Ed’s eyes narrowed at the obvious change in Edward’s tone. His immaculate hair had become dishevelled and he was hissing though clenched teeth as his hips rocked into Oswald’s mouth.

‘Fuck’, Riddler growled, Edward swiftly eclipsed by the darker persona, ‘Oh fuck…fuck yes!’

Both of Riddler’s hands were on Oswald’s head now, nails scraping along his scalp as he yanked him closer. Just as suddenly, he pulled Oswald away. Oswald’s head tilted back as he greedily inhaled gulps of air. The Riddler didn’t give Oswald a chance to recover before he fastened his lips to his, pulling him up. Oswald rolled his hips against Riddler’s as Riddler began to ravish him, breaking their kiss, which left Oswald’s lips bloody, to suck hard at Oswald’s neck. Oswald cried out and went limp in surrender, held within Riddler’s arms.

Ed kicked the blanket off as Riddler threw Oswald face down onto it. Oswald smirked up at Ed’s shocked face as Riddler entered him without further ceremony. Oswald cried out and his fingers clenched into the blanket. Tears fell freely down Oswald’s cheeks as he smiled savagely at Ed.

‘Watch the birdy Eddie’, the Riddler hissed, ‘Look how much he loves this. He would have let us take him anyway we wanted. He wanted us so badly’.

Riddler gave a compulsive shudder and gave a soft chuckle.

‘And he feels so good’, he sighed.

Ed watched as Riddler leant down and whispered into Oswald’s ear. Even though he shouldn’t have been able to hear the words, they were loud inside his head.

‘Show him how good this feels. Give him…a taste’.

The soft hiss his dark self gave at the end of the word ‘taste’ sent shivers along Ed’s spine. As did the sight of Oswald moving closer to him, body rocking with the force of his dark self’s continued thrusts. Ed spread his legs. He couldn’t help it. He had always known it would come to this. It was why he had decided to get inside his covers naked.

Ed inhaled sharply as Oswald leant down to nuzzle at the head of his painfully erect cock with his nose. He bit his lip at the sight as Oswald, dusky cheeked, opened his mouth slowly, the tip of that pink tongue inching closer and closer to his head. Ed squirmed on the bed, knees grinding together as he fought the urge to surrender. Until Riddler took the decision out of his hands and forced Oswald’s head down, his hot mouth instantly enveloping Ed’s cock.

Ed gave a wordless shout of frustration at his lack of self-control and sheer ecstasy at the sensation. The rational part of his brain screaming at him that this wasn’t real was shouted down as Ed luxuriated in his delusion, pretending his fingers around his own cock were Oswald’s. That his own thumb swirling around his head was Oswald’s eager tongue swirling and dancing as he sucked obscenely.  
He felt the phantom sensation of Riddler’s hand leading his own (unoccupied) hand to Oswald’s head. Even though he knew there was nothing between his fingers, Ed still thrilled when Oswald moaned around his cock as he felt Ed’s fingers entangle in his dark hair, silently goading him on, commanding him to take Ed in deeper and deeper.  
Riddler’s exuberant thrusts into Oswald were actually spurring Oswald on, the rhythmic movements helping him to suck Ed off, his mouth a tight seal around his pulsing member. Ed bucked his hips in time with his doppelgänger’s movements, fucking Oswald from the front and back.

Ed knew it wasn’t real. That it was his own fingers around his cock and the heat the result of his own body’s reaction to the pills he had taken but he didn’t care. It felt real and for once he was grateful for his over active imagination.

He heard Oswald’s soft moans begin to escalate into loud, keening cries as he neared climax, entwining with Riddler’s grunts and growls and Ed’s deep gasps. An erotic chorus echoing around the empty room. 

Ed began to shamelessly fuck Oswald’s mouth, desperate to chase every last piece of the glorious sensation of the experience: to chase down every second of unabashed pleasure too long denied. He felt the threshold rise up before him and with one final thrust, he threw himself over it, dragging his chemically conjured concubines with him.  
Ed threw his head back and cried out in wordless exaltation at the pleasure and sheer release that flooded through his system, the unbearable heat melting away into a shivering, creeping cold.

Ed lay there, trembling, feeling sweat slide down his face. His cum, hot and thick, trickled between his fingers as his grip weakened on his cock.

Ed caught the barest glimpse of a shared smirk between Oswald and the Riddler before they vanished into the darkness together. Leaving Ed alone amidst his stained sheets.


	46. Star Crossed

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> blanket-house said:  
> during a planifed hours-long Gotham blackout, it's possible to see stars for the first time in forever. Ed likes to show off his knowledge and Oswald's presence, so why not combine both pleasures ?

Ed was grateful for the way the cool night air soothed his cheek. Whilst the pain of the emergency dental treatment to repair the damage the ‘Dentist’ had caused had dissipated hours ago, his jaw and cheek were still numb and tingly. The wind helped to dull the ticklish sensation. 

Oswald sat beside him on the rooftop, gazing out over the blackness of the Narrows. The blackout had hit about an hour before (a fairly common occurrence in the Narrows) and Ed had been keen to share the view from the top of the apartment with Oswald.   
Beneath them, the Narrows may as well have been a black void, the occasional car headlights like luminous fish swimming in the deepest ocean. Above them was another ocean: the black carpet of the night sky bedecked with seemingly infinite stars. The effect was like two dark mirrors reflecting two sides of the soul: a metaphor Ed always found beautifully poetic.  
It reminded him of those nights when he would flee his house, bruised and crying from his father’s attentions and/or mother’s neglect and hide in the woods near the farm. He would look up through the trees and marvel at all those bright lights, reassured by their presence that there was still beauty in the world. That wishes could come true and were within reach. When he had first seen the lights of Gotham, he had thought the same thing: golden sparks illuminating the darkness of the harbour.

‘It’s peaceful up here’, Oswald remarked.

‘Isn’t it?’ Ed agreed, ‘It’s nice to get away from the noise and above the smoke’.

Ed was about to thank Oswald again for footing the bill for his mouth but it seemed like such a small gesture compared to Oswald literally saving his life earlier that day.

‘I can’t remember the last time I looked up at the stars’, Oswald mused, head turning slowly as he surveyed the nightscape, ‘Always too busy looking over my shoulder’.

‘Stars don’t shine in Gotham very often…’ Ed began and waited. 

‘But when they do, they fall hard’, Oswald smiled, finishing the colloquial turn of phrase.

They both laughed even though they both knew it wasn’t that funny.   
Ed settled down beside Oswald on the blanket they had brought up, careful to maintain a respectable distance. Oswald’s eyes glanced at him but quickly looked away again. 

‘Would you like to hear a story about stars?’ Ed offered.

‘A story and not a riddle?’ Oswald joked, ‘Intriguing. Go on then: ‘Once upon a time…’

‘Once upon a time’, Ed repeated obediently, knowing that was how all good stories began, ‘A celestial princess, Vega fell in love with a mortal, Altair. But Vega’s father disapproved and forbade her to see this mere mortal. The two lovers escaped to the sky but were separated by the Milky Way. They stood on opposite sides of the river staring helplessly at each other until the sky gods took pity on them. A group of magpies was sent to form a bridge for them once every year so they can be together. Sometimes, however, the river is too treacherous to cross and Altair doesn’t make it to Vega’s side. When that happens, the princess’ tears fall as rain to the world below’.

‘That’s a sad story but lovely at the same time’, Oswald sighed.

‘I think so too’.

‘It’s comforting’, Oswald elaborated, looking up at the stars as if looking for the lovers, ‘Despite heaven and earth, one way or another, they always come together again. And when they’re in each other’s arms and the grief and pain of separation fades away, I’m sure they know it’s always worth the wait’.

Oswald gave a nervous laugh and stretched nonchalantly.

‘You know’, he added, ‘Speaking as someone who knows a thing or two about crossing rivers’.

‘Well, penguins are good swimmers’, Ed joked weakly, feeling guilt coil in his stomach like an angry serpent, ‘Better than magpies I expect’.

‘I wouldn’t wait. I would just swim across and-‘

Oswald’s smile faded and he rubbed his arms as if he were cold. Ed tried to get a better look at his expression but Oswald’s eyes were fixed on the tartan blanket.

‘But I didn’t, did I?’ Oswald said quietly, ‘ I ruined everything’.

‘Oswald-‘ Ed began soothingly.

‘Ed, I-‘ Oswald blurted out.

They both stopped talking upon hearing the other. Seeing Oswald’s nervous face, Ed nodded gracefully, giving silent permission for Oswald to continue.

‘I just want you to know that…’ Oswald began.

His fingers clenched into fists on the blanket and his jaw tightened. After a few seconds, he continued.

‘When the Dentist said they were going to-when I thought of you…bleeding and drowning in that cold darkness I-I couldn’t-‘

He gave a hoarse cough. Or at least that was what he wanted Ed to think it was.

‘I couldn’t bear it’, Oswald concluded in a choked sounding voice.

Ed realised his mouth was open and also realised he should say something. If only his heart wasn’t beating so fast! His pulse was so loud in his ears and the goosebumps on his skin so sensitive that at first he didn’t hear the thunder or feel the pitter patter of beginning rain.  
It was only when Oswald broke his steady stare to look up questioningly that Ed felt the wetness run down his neck.

‘Don’t suppose you have an umbrella?’ he asked, hastily getting to his feet.

He offered his hand and helped Oswald rise before gathering up the blanket.

‘The irony is not lost on me I assure you’, Oswald deadpanned, following Ed to the doorway leading back down into the apartment.

Ed had only gone down one step when he felt a light pressure on his sleeve. Turning, he realised Oswald had touched him to get his attention but the pale hand was swiftly withdrawn. Despite the darkness and rain, Ed could see Oswald’s pale eyes shining in the gloom like a cat’s.

‘What were you going to say by the way?’ Oswald asked.

Ed stepped back up so he was standing in the doorway on the same level as Oswald. He heard Oswald give a slight inhalation at how close they were, their bodies nearly flush. Ed tried to ignore the not unpleasant sensations growing within him and looked Oswald in the eyes.

‘You once said revenge gave you something to live for’, Ed said, ‘I’m just wondering what now? You missed your chance with Sofia’.

Oswald nodded, face thoughtful as he regarded the rain outside. It was falling harder, the stars above reflected in the quickly forming puddles. 

‘There’ll be others’, Oswald said, seeming to come to a decision, ‘But…in the meantime, I think I’ve found something better. Some _one_ better’.

Ed was so enthralled by Oswald’s quiet words that he barely noticed Oswald jump up on tiptoes and kiss him on the cheek until it had happened. Ed reached up with shaking fingers and touched the slight wetness on his skin from contact with Oswald’s lips.

‘Was-is that okay?’ Oswald asked bashfully, ‘Because-because if it wasn’t-‘

‘I appreciate the sentiment but…’

‘But what?’ Oswald asked apprehensively, his fingers clenching and unclenching inside his pockets.

‘My cheeks still numb’, Ed said dumbly, poking his jaw as a demonstration, ‘The dentist. Remember?’

Oswald gave a compulsive laugh that instantly changed into an incredulous scoff complete with an eye roll and a foot stomp.

‘Seriously?!’ Oswald cried, his own cheeks blushing scarlet, ‘You didn’t even feel it?!’

Oswald was silenced by Ed taking a step forward. He felt his back hit the doorframe as Ed pressed their bodies flush. Oswald was vaguely aware of Ed dropping the blanket. He was more concerned about the long, strong arms enfolding him, drawing him close.

‘You’ll just have to try harder’, Ed said softly and pressed his lips to Oswald’s.

The wind blew the door closed slowly, the two men too focused on each other to notice anything short of a meteor shower. The stars vanished overhead as clouds rolled in like a thick blanket and overhead a lone magpie flew away, seeking refuge from the rain.


	47. Scary Movies and a Blanket Fort

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> blanket-house said:  
>  If you are inspired by this, I'd like to read a ficlet of yours about Ed being a scaredy cat when it comes to horror movies. He doesn't mind the blood and the gore, but something just scares him so much he promised himself to never watch another one ever
> 
> Anonymous said:Could you write something where Ed and oswald are being giant kids making a fort blanket, could be cute, nswf.. anything 

‘Do you like horror movies Ed?’

‘Why do you ask?’

Oswald shrugged, twirling a pencil idly between his fingers.

‘It’s just, Halloween’s tonight’, he said, ‘And I thought we could get into the spirit of things by watching some classics’.

‘It’s a lovely thought but I actually don’t like horror movies’.

‘Really?’

‘Don’t sound so surprised’.

‘I didn’t take you for the ‘hide behind the sofa’ type’.

Ed shuffled some mayoral paperwork and passed it to Oswald who began to sign each page robotically. There was no need for him to read it. He trusted Ed.

‘I’m a ‘forensic science’ type Oswald’, Ed said pointedly, ‘It’s really hard to enjoy an art form that so flagrantly flouts the laws of simple biology’.

He tapped the side of his head.

‘You know this doesn’t switch off and it tells me that a human body does not typically spurt blood when stabbed and if it does, then definitely not in the quantities you see on screen’.

‘Is it the jump scares?’

‘They can’t be scary because you see them coming. Horror movies just aren’t my thing. That’s all’.

‘Okay then’, Oswald said, refocusing on his work.

Despite Oswald giving no outward sign of being crestfallen in any way, Ed felt the apology well up in him like a cough.

‘Sorry’.

‘Don’t apologise Ed’, Oswald said gently, ’It’s okay. Really. I just thought it would be a good way to spend Halloween but there are other things we can do instead’.

‘Why do you like horror movies so much?’ Ed asked.

‘When I was little, my mother used to tell me a story every night before bed’, Oswald said smiling sadly, ‘Stories that she was told when she was young in the ‘old country’. About ogres and wicked witches and deep, dark woods’.

He chuckled and grinned wickedly as he wriggled his fingers.

‘Always lots of blood and scary bits. I always liked the ones about the monsters’.

‘That’s because your monsters were imaginary’.

Oswald looked at Ed, taken aback by his low, sombre tone.

‘Ed?’

Ed didn’t seem to notice Oswald. He barely seemed to be in his office anymore. His eyes were distant, clouded with memories as he gazed into the empty fireplace ahead.

‘I only ever saw one horror movie’, Ed said, ‘I snuck out with the other neighbour kids late one night. They only asked me to come because I let one of them copy my answers on a pop quiz but I didn’t care. I remember thinking ‘this must be what it’s like to have friends’. We crept into the local drive through and watched the movie, eating snacks someone had brought from home. I didn’t get a lot of candy so I stuffed some in my pockets for later. I snuck home after but I wasn’t quiet enough. Not clever enough. Dad was waiting in my room and made me turn out my pockets’.

Oswald watched as Ed’s hands subconsciously strayed to his pockets as if to turn them out. Ed seemed to realise what he was doing at the last second and his fingers curled into fists.

‘The horror in the movie was nothing compared to what happened after that’, Ed continued in a tight voice, eyes dark, ‘To make things worse, my dad then snitched on all the neighbour kids to their folks (once he’d pried their names out of me) and all my ‘friends’ didn’t want anything to do with me’.

Ed gave an abrupt shiver and took off his glasses.

‘The things in dark places are real Oswald’, he said, eyes downcast as he meticulously cleaned his glasses, ‘They just wear human faces’.

‘What was the movie?’ Oswald asked quietly.

‘What?’

‘What was the movie you saw?’

‘I…I don’t remember’, Ed said, voice sounding lost and childlike.

Oswald felt his heart ache at how ill at ease Ed looked. Ed never forgot anything. How could he when his own body was a living reminder? Oswald had seen the scars: a labyrinth of bad experiences carved into Ed’s skin. Scars that were not his fault. Oswald took Ed’s glasses from Ed’s trembling fingers and cleaned them for him.

‘In that case, could I maybe try and change your mind about them tonight?’ Oswald asked, placing the glasses back on Ed’s face.

**

‘You made a fort’, Ed smiled fondly, observing Oswald’s handiwork.

Oswald seemed to have collected every pillow, throw and cushion in the mansion and cobbled them together into a veritable fortress of soft furnishings, topped off with a huge blanket canopy that he seemed to have somehow attached to the ceiling. Within the perimeter, Oswald had lined the floor with cushions like a bird’s nest. Ed had expected Oswald to go all out (he never did believe in doing things by halves) but the amount of thought and care in the construction was touching. As Ed thought about it, he realised it had truly taken hours. He hadn’t seen Oswald all afternoon.

‘Technically it’s a castle’, Oswald corrected, adjusting a pillow a millimetre to the left, ‘And no, that is not a cue for you to list off the architectural features that make this more of a fort’.

‘I suppose all art is subjective’, Ed remarked then whistled appreciatively as he noticed a large bowl nestled within the blankets, ‘Popcorn too? You’re spoiling me’.

‘You can’t have a horror movie without popcorn’ Oswald said obviously, ‘Don’t worry if you get scared and throw it all over the floor. I made spare’.

‘I’ll try to keep my fear in check’, Ed chuckled.

Ed got down on all fours and crawled beneath the blanket canopy Oswald had erected. A moment later, Oswald followed as the film projector spun into life. Oswald offered Ed some popcorn as the film began to unfold against the wall facing them.

‘Wait a minute, does this movie take place in space?’ Ed asked, surprised as what appeared to be the environs of a spaceship loomed into view.

‘Horror is a very wide genre Ed. Including sci fi horror’, Oswald explained, ‘This particular delightful feature includes such varied topics as space travel, planet exploration, a desperate battle for survival, the evolution of the ultimate killing machine, female empowerment and more sexual subtext than you can shake a stick at’.

‘Who could say ‘no’ to that?’ Ed joked, as the characters in the film began to awake from what appeared to be suspended animation.

Ed glanced up at the blanket above them.

‘Kids always think that hiding under blankets keeps them safe’, he said softly.

‘We’re not kids’, Oswald replied, ‘If you think about it, some people would call us ‘monsters’’.

‘Don’t monsters always die in the end?’

‘Usually their creators die first’, Oswald said, a grin lurking beneath his words before concern eclipsed it, ‘You still okay to do this by the way? How are you feeling?’

Ed laid his head in Oswald’s lap and sighed as he settled in for whatever terrifying delights were in store.

‘Safe’, he said and was surprised to find he sincerely meant it.


	48. Very Little Slips Past Me These Days

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Anonymous said:Hi, could you write anything on a) "I don’t care what anyone else thinks.” b) “I’m never letting you go.” (preferebly dark and said by Oswald) or something cute with the two of them being found out by the GCPD when Ed still works there?
> 
> buntesfuenkchen said:51. The jittery, sick feeling when you can’t do anything... Maybe some Angst nygmobblepot with happy end?

Ed tries to whistle nonchalantly as he busies himself with filing reports. Wincing at how loud it seems in the confines of the GCPD forensic lab, he purses his lips to silence the wavering sound.  
Even as he switches to muttering the facts and figures on the reports aloud, he can hear the echoes of the conversation he had shared with Oswald the previous night rising to the fore.

‘What’s wrong Ed?’ Oswald whispers in his head.

A languid voice heavy with sleep. Ed can almost feel the warm weight of Oswald’s arm around him, the ticklish sensation of his breath on his neck, Oswald’s cock poking him in the back even as it softened, the blankets tangled around their ankles, the perfumed smell of the lube in the air mingling with the salty tang of sweat-

‘What makes you think there’s something wrong?’ Ed asks, not noticing how he repeats the question under his breath.

Putting the folders down, he begins to clean his glasses. He can feel Oswald’s eyes on him just as they were the previous night even though Oswald is not there with him now. They shine like glass in the dim light of Ed’s apartment as he scrutinises Ed’s overtly cheerful tone.

‘I don’t need informants to know something’s bothering you’, Oswald says, ‘Very little slips past me these days’.

Ed tries not to tell Oswald. But the feeling of those fingers soothingly tracing along his back and arm is akin to drawing poison from a wound.

‘Just… stupid things people are saying at work’, Ed recites.

He feels like a child again, the verbal jabs of bullies akin to physical blows leaving him reeling and shocked. Their snide side glances and laughter is like invasive insects on his skin. Insects that burrow down deep inside and squirm in his stomach whenever he thinks about work.

‘What kind of things?’ Oswald asks.  
His tone is too affectedly casual. Ed looks over his shoulder at him and is met with the watchful eyes of a predator. Ed imagines lethal claws uncurling and swallows hard even as he plasters a fake smile on his face.

‘It doesn’t matter-‘ he begins.

‘What kind of things’.

It’s not a question and Ed fights down the urge to flinch even as his cock pulses at Oswald’s dangerous tone.

‘That you’re just using me’, Ed says weakly and tries to stifle a compulsive, shaky laugh.  
When said aloud it sounds ridiculous. What he and Oswald have is special: a bond forged in blood. Someone else’s blood.  
But when Oswald does not laugh with him, Ed clamps his jaw shut to stop the writhing imaginary insects in his stomach from bursting out of his mouth.

‘Do you think that’s true?’ Oswald asks, tone calm and measured.

His soft voice makes cold sweat break out on Ed’s skin. It’s so at odds with the passionate growls that had issued from his throat when he had been fucking himself raw on Ed’s cock a few minutes before.

‘I hope it’s not’, Ed says, feeling his throat constrict, seemingly in an attempt to stop him confessing his fear to the predator in his bed, ‘It’s just I’ve never had anyone care about me and…I guess I’m just scared’.

‘Of me?’

‘No’, Ed answers truthfully, ‘That one day I’ll wake up and you’ll be gone’.

Ed is startled to notice wet drops on his glasses when he looks down. He reaches up and realises he has been crying. He inhales and exhales as he looks around for some paper towels to clean his face.  
He knows why he is crying. He’s surprised he hasn’t started sooner.  
When he had woken up that morning, Oswald had been gone.

Ed doesn’t know what’s worse. The feeling that he has perhaps ruined his chance with Oswald by casting doubt on their relationship or the horrible, sickening possibility that his co-workers have been right on the money. That Oswald has indeed just been using Ed for a cheap thrill.

Ed curses as he sees there are no paper towels but the sound of a door opening makes him start.

‘Take it easy Nygma’, Officer Eckhart says snidely as he enters, ‘Don’t have a girly fit’.

Ed’s jaw tightens as Eckhart looks over his shoulder. Ed’s keen ears pick up ‘talkin’ to his imaginary friends again’ followed by quiet sniggering.

‘How can I help you Officer?’ Ed asks robotically, suddenly extremely interested in the tabletop.

‘Are you crying?’ Eckhart asks with audible savage delight.

Ed doesn’t look at him. He can hear giggling from the doorway and realises Eckhart is not alone. He never is. He’s always with his cronies. Ed wonders if perhaps they suspect his hand in their former compatriot, Dougherty’s, death but swiftly realise they are too unintelligent to make the connection. They’re here for the same things all monkeys enjoy. Shit slinging and dick measuring.

‘How can I help you officer?’ Ed repeats, crossing his hands behind his back, determinedly not wiping at his eyes.

‘Me and the boys’, Eckhart says, rubbing his stubbled chin ponderously in an futile physical attempt to convey contemplation, ‘We were just wonderin’ about somethin’. Maybe you can help?’

‘Shoot’, Ed says through clenched teeth, eyes drifting to the selection of toolset out to the right of where Eckhart’s hand is resting on the table. The scalpel looks particularly appealing but Ed has always liked the obvious lethality of a bonesaw. 

‘We were just wonderin’, Eckhart begins but then his composure breaks and he guffaws the rest of the sentence, ‘Do-do you like it when Penguin ri-riddles you? Or-or does he like it up the tail f-feathers?!’

Ed flinches as the tobacco on Eckhart’s breath wafts over him, tainting him. The whole station is poisonous: a nest of vipers. The laughter is deafening in the small room, ringing off the walls and reverberating deep into Ed’s core. His heartbeat is hammering in his ears and Ed can feel warm wetness on his palm from where his fingernails have cut into his flesh. Ed is so incensed, he can’t speak. He can’t even think. He just reaches for the scalpel…

And realises that Eckhart is now laughing alone.

Eckhart realises too and his chuckles gradually die away. He looks around dumbly and Ed sees him freeze. Like someone who has just spotted a large spider on their bedroom wall.  
Ed’s heart leaps with relief. He knows only one person could cause such a visceral reaction.

Ed steps forward, the better to see around Eckhart’s bulky frame.

And Oswald is standing in the doorway. His gold, shimmering dress coat reminds Ed of a lighthouse on a night time sea and he feels himself being physically drawn towards it. Towards the only person who has ever made him feel safe.

‘What’re you doin’ here?’ Eckhart asks but his voice has lost his boisterousness.  
It’s blusterous but Ed sees the sweat break out on Eckhart’s bald head and the shallow way he breathes.

‘Mr Nygma’, Oswald says in a clear voice, ignoring Eckhart, ‘We have business to discuss’.

He offers his hand to Ed who takes it without hesitation. When he feels Oswald squeeze his fingers, Ed no longer cares about what other people might think. Oswald is here. And Oswald is all that matters.

‘You can’t just barge in here and-‘ Eckhart begins but Penguin holds up his other hand.

He makes sure Eckhart is paying attention then clicks his fingers.

Eckhart’s friends file in like obedient dogs and take up position, encircling their fellow officer. Their eyes are hard, resolute, but a couple of them have the decency to avoid eye contact with Eckhart. Eckhart looks at Oswald, confused and Oswald disdainfully throws him a piece of paper. Ed catches a glimpse of the paper before Eckhart snatches it up.  
It’s a list of female names and addresses.

‘You’re the only unmarried officer in here Eckhart’, Oswald says, ‘Lucky you’.

Eckhart is breathing heavily now. Ed thinks he should be.  
Everyone in the room knows what’s about to happen. Ed just hopes they won’t disturb his filing system before they finish.

‘Please’, Eckhart says hoarsely, ‘Please, I’m sorry-I-I didn’t mean it’.

‘I do’, Oswald says coldly and leads Ed out of the lab.

As the door closes behind Ed, he hears the first punch and a choked, weedy noise. The sound of a jaw being broken. Eckhart’s former cohorts are literally not pulling any punches.

‘Are you alright?’ Oswald asks as they head for the parking lot.

‘You arranged all that for me?’ Ed asks as they go down the stairs.

Ed helps Oswald descend, savouring the scent of Oswald’s cologne, picturing it cleansing him of the stink of the GCPD. Oswald smelt of blood and life to him.

‘You’re worth it’, Oswald says simply, sighing gratefully as they take the last stair.

Oswald straightens and fixes his coat before they resume walking. Ed spies Oswald’s limo immediately. He notes that Oswald has not let go of his hand once.

‘Haven’t you realised that I would reduce this whole damn building to rubble if I thought it would make you smile?’ Oswald asks.

The fierceness in his eyes makes Ed’s knees feel weak and when Oswald lets go of his hand to get into the other side of the car, Ed feels the absence of his fingers as a physical ache.  
He climbs in and closes the door. It feels final and he knows he’s not coming back to the GCPD.  
As he faces Oswald, he feels no sadness. He’s feeling more alive with every moment.

‘Why?’ Ed breathes as the car begins to drive.

The world outside the limo windows fades into a blur as Oswald places both hands on Ed’s face and draws him close. Ed feels as if his skin is on fire beneath Oswald’s fingertips. Sea green eyes fill his vision, hypnotic, alluring and dangerous.

‘Because I don’t care what anyone else thinks’, Oswald says, ‘I love you and I’m never letting you go’.

Ed knows he means it and it shatters his tenuous grip on his self control. He grabs Oswald’s feather like hair and pulls him into a fierce kiss, mewling as Oswald begins to ravish his mouth, knocking his glasses askew. Ed pushes back physically and thrills when Oswald lets him. Before he knows it, he’s kneeling on the limo floor and fiddling with Oswald’s fly, practically purring as Oswald’s encouraging fingers trace through his hair.

‘Promise?’ Ed pants thickly as he reaches inside Oswald’s briefs.


	49. Your Favourite Song

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> blanket-house said:  
> 43\. Your favourite song on repeat for the hundredth time.

***

‘Oswald, can we please listen to something else?’

Ed keeps his eyes on the road as Oswald looks at him questioningly.

‘It’s a good song’, Oswald says.

‘You’ve been playing it in the mansion for the last week. I’ve heard it at least a hundred times now’.

‘’At least’ a hundred times?’ Oswald comments, amused, ‘It’s not like you to be imprecise’.

‘It’s because the song’s melting my brain’.

‘You really don’t like it?’ Oswald asks, disbelief obvious, ‘It’s been number one for the last two weeks’.

‘But it’s barely even a tune!’ Ed protests as the song begins to build, the confines of the car increasing the feeling of being trapped in the car with the insufferable music.

‘You really don’t get modern music do you?’

‘If that’s modern music, I don’t want to get it. Look, I’ve tried to be polite but can I please have a reprieve?’

‘Of course you can Ed’, Oswald says obligingly as he switches off the car radio, ‘All you had to do was ask’.

They drive in silence for a while but just as Ed starts to relax, his keen ears detect a barely audible-

‘Stop that’, he says.

‘I’m just humming to myself’, Oswald shrugs.

‘We both know what you’re humming’, Ed replies, eyes narrowing, ‘You can stop that too’.

‘What?’

‘Drumming your fingers to the beat’.

‘There’s no beat Ed’, Oswald laughs offhandedly, ‘It’s just a habit. You’ve been drumming your fingers on the steering wheel’.

‘To prevent me from wrapping them around your ne-‘ Ed retorts but then stops and sighs heavily, ‘And now you’re subtly nodding your head in time with the beat’.

‘I’m just acknowledging what you’re saying!’ Oswald protests.

‘Seriously? You’re tapping your foot too?’ Ed cries, laughing at Oswald’s inventiveness overpowering his irritation, ‘What age are you?’

‘You’re the one who told me to rotate my ankle during cold weather to stop it seizing up!’

Ed brakes harder than he has to when the lights ahead change to red in a more overt show of protest.

‘Yes. Rotate’, Ed says, swivelling a finger in demonstration, ‘What you are doing is an up and down motion resulting in percussion which oh-so-conveniently matches the cadence of ‘Wake up Alone!’

Oswald looks away now that Ed can finally stare him down. Ed is simultaneously amused and incredulous at the completely disingenuous innocent smile on Oswald’s face.

‘It’s all in your head Ed’.

‘Yes. Yes it is’, Ed grumbles resignedly, ‘It’s not going away any time soon is it?’.

‘When it does, you’ll miss it’, Oswald says, leaning back, the barest trace of a smug smile in his words.

‘I bet I won’t’, Ed deadpans, too busy watching the road again to check for any outward sign of triumph of Oswald’s face.

‘It’ll grow on you’, Oswald comments breezily, ‘I know it will’.

Ed very much doubts it but is disturbed to find his own foot tapping while they wait for the lights to change.


	50. A Dangerous Game

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> anonymous asked:
> 
> Can you please write some more stuff where Ed and Os are secretly dating and plotting? I loved the short thing you did after the last episode.
> 
>  
> 
> Anonymous said:17 & 18 sensory prompt please?

Ed watched Lee go, smiling goofily as she deliberately swayed her hips languidly, ensuring he got a nice long look before she vanished from view.  
Ed’s smile vanished the moment she did. Taking a handkerchief from his breast pocket, he wiped his mouth and took a pack of breath mints from another. He dialled a number on his cellphone, and as he threw a mint up in the air and caught it in his mouth, held the phone to his ear.  
After a single ring, Oswald picked up.

‘Did she buy it?’ he asked.

‘Of course she did’, Ed said, ‘What about the galoot formerly known as Grundy?’

‘Oh please. I barely had to sell it. Come to me’.

‘Surely you mean ‘cum for you’?’

He felt his cock pulse at Oswald’s soft, knowing chuckle.

‘There’s a riddle for you’, Oswald replied, ‘Don’t keep me waiting’.

***

‘Her bravery is admirable’, Oswald said, licking his lips clean of red wine droplets.

‘Well it’s not surprising’, Ed mused, running a finger along the mouth of his own empty glass, ‘The woman was dating Jim Gordon. Good for her for trading up eh?’

Oswald chuckled as he placed the wine glass on the nightstand and took a long drag of his cigarette. He smirked at the obvious tent in the blanket between Ed’s legs: he hadn’t expected Ed to be up for another round already. Oswald would deal with that shortly but not yet. Ed liked to be kept waiting: he liked to squirm for a while, try to resist before throwing himself headlong into lustful sensations. He enjoyed the adrenaline of the fall.

‘Does she have any idea she’s dating her would-be assassin?’ Oswald asked, tapping a few motes of ash into a crystal ash tray.

‘No’, Ed smiled, possessively running a hand along Oswald’s naked chest, ‘That’s what makes it exciting. It’s one of the only reasons I agreed to the plan. What about Butch?’

Oswald stubbed out the cigarette and lay on his side. He winced slightly as the movement aggravated his sore entrance but sighed as he settled in comfortably beside Ed. The bed was warm and soft despite the mussed blanket and the smell of sex permeating the sheets. He laid his head on Ed’s chest and inhaled the tangy smell of his sweat and the faded scent of his cologne. It was a scent he had become used to since they had begun to live together following Ed’s rescue at the docks. It smelt like home.

‘He was about as happy to see me as you’d expect’, Oswald said, ignoring a twinge from his still aching throat where Butch had grabbed him, ‘But, thankfully, he never asked about you. After the predictable reaction, he finally decided to be pragmatic when I showed him the barrel’.

‘Indian Hill was using Slaughter Swamp as a waste dump then?’

‘Everyone else in Gotham does’, Oswald shrugged, ‘The barrels were right where you’d thought they’d be’.

‘Out in the open with no effort made to hide them’, Ed deadpanned.

Oswald knew it wasn’t a question.

‘Bingo’, Oswald said, drumming his fingers lightly on Ed’s skin, savouring the small, husky sigh Ed gave at the sensation.

‘But if everyone uses the swamp’, Ed mused, ‘Then Butch could have been turned into Grundy thanks to exposure to some new kind of shampoo and not whatever Strange cooked up’.

‘Let’s worry about that later’, Oswald said before Ed could be distracted by future strategies, ‘Did Lee ask where I was?’

‘No. Strangely enough though, she said ‘we’ meaning ‘she and I’ put you on ice. Didn’t expect her to feel the need to resort to propaganda but then again maybe her hand was twinging’.

‘I’m almost insulted’, Oswald joked.

‘Speaking of ‘insulted’, did the clown tell you his master plan?’

‘If he has one, he’s playing it close to the chest but I did see a new chemical Scarecrow cooked up’, Oswald said, stifling a shudder, ‘It’s just as vile as his last concoction’.

‘What is it?’

‘It’s a compressed gas. They sprayed it on a ‘test subject’ and the man literally laughed himself to death. He didn’t even stop when his jaw unhinged and his eyes burst’.

‘Some kind of nerve agent then’, Ed said, grimacing as his brain provided a corresponding image for Oswald’s description complete with a sound effect, ‘I’ll do some research and see what I can find’.

‘But not right now’, Oswald said pointedly.

‘No’, Ed agreed, pulling the blanket higher over them both, ‘Not right now’.

They lay for a moment, snug in the bed. The room had been cheap and unlike most of the Narrows was clean and well kept albeit rather spartan. They had chosen it as it was on the borders but tucked away down a side street that could only be reached by following an exact route of three other side streets. Ed had gotten the intel from Selina who had often made use of the place. It was perfect for those who didn’t want to be found.

‘I missed this’, Oswald said quietly, ‘You know that?’

‘Missed what?’

‘You and me versus everyone else. Just like old times’.

‘This is way better than old times’.

Oswald nodded.

‘Was she a better kisser than me?’ he asked.

‘Maybe’, Ed teased.

‘What’ll it take for you to give me a straight answer?’ Oswald asked aloofly, hand drifting beneath Ed’s navel.

‘I’m not sure’, Ed whispered even as Oswald felt him tense and saw his eyes go wide.

‘Hmm, how did she seduce you?’ Oswald purred thoughtfully as he removed Ed’s glasses, ‘I wonder…’

He placed the spectacles carefully on the nightstand before pretending to realise the answer.

‘Oh! I know. You got your ego-‘

Ed have a hoarse moan as Oswald gave his cock a long, slow pump.

‘-stroked’, Oswald whispered into Ed’s ear.

Oswald gave a giddy laugh as Ed threw the blanket off them and in one, catlike movement positioned himself so he was on top of Oswald. One knee slid between Oswald’s legs which parted obligingly as Ed fastened his hands to Oswald’s already bruised wrists. Oswald licked his lips hungrily at both Ed’s intense gaze and the obvious rock hard appendage hanging between his lean legs.

‘You know what the hardest part of today was?’ Ed growled, leaning down.

Oswald made an odd, mewling sound as Ed began to lick at his neck, his tongue hot and heavy against his veins.

‘Seeing those lovely props you made go to waste?’ Oswald gasped, toes curling.

‘No. They were just bait to lure her in. Make a big show of it, make her think she’d beaten me at my own game’.

‘The nerve of the woman’, Oswald chuckled, eyelids fluttering at Ed’s warm breath tickling his skin, ‘People only win when you let them’.

‘There has been one, notable exception’, Ed said with a flirtatious raised eyebrow.

Oswald moaned as Ed’s tongue parted his lips and entwined with his own, the scandalous sounds making Oswald’s hips buck instinctively. He felt Ed nip at his lips and returned the favour, spurring their mutual hunger to the next level. After a few seconds, Oswald broke the kiss for some much needed air and a question.

‘Go on then, before we get down to business, tell me: what was the hardest part?’

‘Playing along with such an insulting lie’, Ed said, his lustful countenance temporarily replaced by a tender gaze that made Oswald’s heart leap, ‘How could I ever love her when you are perfection?’

‘Answer: you can’t’, Oswald smiled.

‘Correct’, Ed said, his fingertips tickling the skin of Oswald’s wrists.

Oswald inhaled shakily, knowing he wouldn’t last much longer. Ed always knew just where to touch him. To make him squirm.

‘Poor baby’, Oswald said with mock sympathy, defiant to the end, ‘How did you ever manage to struggle through a kiss? Imagining the look on Gordon’s face when he finds out?’

‘No. I closed my eyes and thought of you’.

Oswald gave a blissful sigh and raised his hips pointedly. They both knew that was checkmate. The preliminaries were over: it was time to move on to the main event.

‘Talk like that is what made me fall in love with you’, Oswald breathed.

‘Is it still working?’ Ed asked, eyebrow raised coquettishly as he took up position.

‘Like a charm’.


	51. Walking On Ice

‘You need to walk like a penguin’.

‘Is that a joke?’ Oswald asked, scowling.

Ed rubbed his gloved hands together and looked at Oswald impassively. He had been waiting patiently for Oswald to descend the park steps but it was obvious Oswald was too worried about the icy surfaces to attempt it alone. Ed also knew Oswald was too stubborn to admit it.

‘Are you laughing?’ Ed asked.

‘Oh yes Ed!’ Oswald said sarcastically, ‘Can’t you tell? My sides are splitting! I’m rolling in the aisles! I’m-‘

Oswald gave a noticeable wobble and clamped his jaw shut, both hands gripping the rail running along the stairs. His cane bounced down and came to a rolling stop at Ed’s feet.

‘Finished?’ Ed asked, not unkindly, flicking the cane into his hand with a swift, angular movement of his foot.

‘Yes’, Oswald said grudgingly.

Ed ascended the steps with care and offered Oswald the cane.

‘I don’t do jokes’, Ed said, ‘Only riddles’.

Ed’s proximity seemed to give Oswald some kind of comfort and he began to take the stairs one at a time. Ed matched his pace, stepping down to each new step slightly ahead of Oswald. He considerately ignored the relieved sigh Oswald gave at making contact with flat surface.

‘Fine’, Oswald conceded, seeing Ed’s shrewd look, ‘How exactly does one walk like a penguin?’

‘Slowly with a straight back, weight placed equally on both feet and small steps’.

‘Equally on both feet?’ Oswald asked with the barest trace of trepidation.

Ed noted the way Oswald leant heavily on his cane and felt a stab of sympathy. Oswald’s leg caused him pain on a daily basis (although the exact level of discomfort varied) but the cold made it more tender. More likely to fail him when it mattered. Ed understood the fear of losing control of one’s own body. If Oswald’s leg couldn’t be counted on to support him, then Ed would fill the void.

Oswald was so busy staring at the ground, trying to assess a safe path that avoided the worst parts of the ice, that at first he didn’t notice Ed’s open hand. Ed caught his attention by trying to slip his arm under Oswald’s. Oswald gave a start and Ed stopped dead, keen not to press Oswald to accept his offer if he didn’t wish to.

‘Penguins usually walk together’, Ed said gently, ‘Don’t worry about falling’.

‘I’m-I’m not worried’.

‘Lean on me okay?’

‘But-‘

‘It’s okay’, Ed smiled knowingly, ‘Everyone’s too busy trying to get out of the cold to notice’.

After a cursory glance around for potential witnesses and finding none concerned with them, Oswald obeyed. He linked his arm with Ed’s and, after a quick squeeze to signal he was ready, they moved off together.

The park was covered in a blanket of snow: the grass peeking above the white seemed to be encased in sugar and the iced over pond glazed with a surface of fern like patterns.

‘It’s getting heavier’, Ed observed, looking up but then made an annoyed noise as his glasses quickly ended up coated in down like flakes.

Ed halted and Oswald giggled at the sight of Ed’s covered glasses. It looked like he had dunked them in laundry detergent.

‘You should have brought an umbrella’, Oswald chided, patting Ed’s arm patronisingly.

‘Really?’ Ed smirked and reaching up, pulled down sharply on a branch right above Oswald’s head.

Oswald gasped as he found himself suddenly covered in snow dislodged from the branch. He shuddered as some slipped insidiously down his collar, changing into an icy trail of water droplets as it melted.

‘You-you!’ Oswald spluttered, breathing heavily as he shook his head violently, words struggling to form between his chattering teeth.

‘You should have brought an umbrella’, Ed taunted.

He wasn’t prepared for Oswald shoving him into a large, nearby snow drift but his unpreparedness was offset by Oswald’s own lack of foresight. His arm was still entwined with Ed’s. Ed fell backwards and Oswald fell forward with a cry. Ed had just enough time to enfold his arms around Oswald, cushioning him. Contact with the snow drift was painless (as Ed had expected) but he did not want to take any chances with Oswald’s leg. Even as his good knee made contact with a very sensitive part of Ed's anatomy.

‘Ow…’ Ed moaned, the wind knocked out of him.

‘Are you alright?!’ Oswald asked, flustered and unable to extricate himself.

Ed looked up and met Oswald’s pale eyes looking down at him earnestly, naked concern in his eyes above reddened cheeks. Ed didn’t know if Oswald was blushing from the cold or from their suggestive position. The thought made Ed smile despite his aching body.

Oswald sighed with relief when Ed gave him a thumbs-up and a weak smile.

‘Good thing I landed on something soft’, Oswald joked weakly, patting Ed’s chest companionably

‘Yep. You sure did’, Ed chuckled, laying his head back, ‘Let’s just take a second okay?’

Oswald carefully climbed off Ed and lay on his back beside him. The sky was grey overhead, the snowflakes whirling and dancing like dandelion clocks as it fell. The park was quiet and peaceful, the sounds muted by the weather. Despite the cold, the snow they were lying on was soft and their heavy coats kept the worst of the chill at bay.

‘Snow angels’, Ed commented, eyes flicking to the indentations they had both made in the snow.

‘Snow devils’, Oswald corrected.

‘Angels are just devils that have lost their wings’.

‘Their wings weren’t lost. They were taken’, Oswald reflected.

‘True’, Ed nodded but then added, ‘Then again, penguins don’t have wings to begin with and the deepest circle’s ice cold. They’d probably like it there’.

Oswald turned to look at Ed and was surprised to find Ed looking right at him. He knew he should be freezing but the way Ed was looking at him made him feel as if the chill clinging to his skin was physically melting away.

‘It would depend on the company’, Oswald said, unaware of the smile spreading across his face.

He offered his hand and Ed took it immediately.

‘You know what goes well with deep discussions like this?’ Ed asked, squeezing Oswald’s fingers reassuringly as he slowly sat up.

‘A roaring fire with hot cocoa and lots of marshmallows?’ Oswald ventured, the thought making him lick his lips in anticipation.

‘Close but you forgot one thing’, Ed said, getting to his feet.

‘What?’ Oswald asked, sitting up.

Ed helped him stand again and Oswald froze as Ed kissed him on the forehead. No matter how many times Ed kissed him, it always caught Oswald by surprise that Ed had chosen him as a romantic partner. He kept expecting to wake up but the cold air around them and the way Ed’s visible, warm breath ghosted over his flesh, bathing it with fleeting heat, told him it wasn’t.

‘A bed with extra blankets’, Ed winked impishly as he drew back, ‘For two’.

‘Thank you Ed’, Oswald said, feeling the kiss already freezing on his brow, locking Ed’s invisible mark of love into his skin.

‘For what?’

‘Always keeping me warm’, Oswald smiled as they set off for home, the snow swiftly eclipsing their footprints.


	52. Playing the Long Game

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> buntesfuenkchen asked: 20. Reflections in glass. Maybe Edward and The Riddler?  
> Edward plays ❔❓'Try and catch me, Riddler style!‘❔❓ with Oswald in Gotham to distract his lovely bird 

_Dear Oswald,_  
_You’re almost there now that you’re dressed to impress,_  
_One last step and I’ll help relieve all that stress._  
_Find me tonight. I’ll still be in the city._  
_At 6pm follow the botanic graffiti_  
_To the place where business and pleasure are both the same_  
_Where a flower and ‘fingers’ share the one name._  
_Love, Ed._

‘You knew I was here all along didn’t you?’ Ed said knowingly.

Folding the letter carefully, he placed it with the others Oswald had collected during his scavenger hunt earlier that day.

‘What makes you say that?’ Oswald asked, careful to keep his tone neutral.

As soon as the first missive had been slipped beneath the door of the Iceberg Lounge, Oswald had known who it was from and had immediately tabled all other business. Ed had promised something ‘diverting’ for their anniversary and Oswald had immediately left the Lounge, following the riddle Ed had provided. He had realised very quickly even without Ed's clues that Ed would be waiting at 'The Foxglove' thanks to the places Ed had directed him to visit and the nature of the items he was instructed to purchase but had obediently followed the treasure trail Ed had left. Oswald knew that Ed had not left him a series of riddles without reason. Every stop was to help build up excitement and in this, Ed had succeeded. Oswald couldn’t wait to show him what he had purchased and had no desire to show ingratitude for something Ed had obviously thought a great deal about.

‘Because they wouldn’t let me reserve the penthouse and yet here we are’, Ed said, gesturing out of the large window.

Oswald looked out and whistled appreciatively at the view of Gotham’s cityscape stretching out before them before continuing to pour them both a glass of red wine. The Foxglove’s penthouse was fully soundproofed and privacy was guaranteed: a perfect getaway even in the heart of Gotham. Oswald considered the upgrade worthwhile for the atmosphere alone: the room was dark, illuminated only by the candles set into strategically placed alcoves in the wall, and smelt of incense bringing to mind the exotic and mysterious. It was why he had called ahead when he had been following the ‘botanic graffiti’ (a painting of a foxglove pointing the way to the club) and upgraded Ed’s reservation. 

‘Great minds think alike’, Oswald shrugged, offering Ed a full glass.

Ed accepted it as he sat beside Oswald on the four poster bed. He was glad to see that management had honoured his request for dark, green satin sheets. Little touches were always important.

‘Did you enjoy the game?’ Ed asked eagerly.

‘I did’, Oswald smiled, ‘In a minute you’ll get to enjoy it too’.

Ed raised his glass in salute and Oswald lightly tapped his own against it.

‘Happy Anniversary Oswald’.

‘Happy Anniversary Ed’.

The wine had barely disappeared down Ed’s throat before Oswald kissed him, red wine still clinging to their lips. The first kiss (as always) was soft and hesitant: all tenderness and bashful coaxing. But neither Oswald or Ed were known for their patience and before long, the kiss became more heated. Their lips crashed into each other and their tongues flailed and entwined as they chased the taste of each other like striking snakes, both wanting to experience as much as possible before they were forced to separate for some air.

Oswald touched Ed’s face and watched the candlelight dance in his dark eyes.

‘So, you don’t think my requests were kind of…weird?’ Ed asked quietly.

‘They’re my kind of weird’, Oswald replied reassuringly.

‘You’re sure?’

Oswald gently laid his forehead against Ed’s, trying to somehow telepathically reassure Ed that he was indeed being honest.

‘Ed, I’m sure’, Oswald said, nuzzling Ed, ‘Now, no more thinking. No more business. Let’s just let go and have some fun for once’.

‘You’re right. It is our anniversary. Speaking of which, I cooked up something special for the occasion’.

Ed reached over to the nightstand. A series of assorted bottles and containers were lined up: the standard selection of perfumes, body oils and lubricant provided by the establishment for more ‘stimulating’ experiences. Ed ignored them all and instead picked up a green glass bottle with a question mark inscribed on it’s white label. Oswald smiled. Ed sometimes liked to experiment with his own specially designed drugs to enhance their sexual experiences and had swiftly educated Oswald on how efficient they could be in prolonging the pleasure for them both.  
Ed popped the stopper and held the bottle neck to Oswald’s nose.

‘Wow that’s strong’, Oswald said, wrinkling his nose at the bitter scent emanating from the bottle.

‘I hope so’, Ed smiled, taking a deep inhalation of his own, ‘Makes it last longer’.

‘Make what last-‘ Oswald began but then gave an abrupt shudder, ‘Oh…’

The sudden rush of warmth made him pant, his mouth growing dry and almost itchy as he looked at Ed with barely disguised wonder at the suddenness of the effects.  
Ed reached for Oswald first, gracing his face with the tips of his fingers before reaching behind his head. He drew him back in for another kiss. This one was gentle with Ed using his fingers to hold Oswald in place. Oswald reciprocated, his lips ghosting over Ed’s, his tongue softly moving just past Ed’s lips to taste him before Ed would return the gesture.

Ed knew the chemical had heightened his senses but he was still taken aback when he discovered he could smell Oswald’s arousal and impossibly feel his own blood warming as the heady, enticing scent caused his heart to beat faster. Seeing colour beginning to blossom in Oswald’s usually pale cheeks, Ed knew he felt it too. He wondered what his desire smelt like to Oswald.

Ed moaned as they kissed and Oswald thrilled as the vocalisation seemed to travel down his throat and pound against his ribs. A strangely familiar, reassuring, perfumed scent drove Oswald deepen the kiss once more, nipping at Ed’s lips with his teeth as Ed’s tongue pushed deeper and deeper into his mouth. Ed’s hand was on his knee then suddenly on his crotch and Oswald was forced to break the kiss in surprised when Ed cupped his erection.

‘Getting a bit warm in here isn’t it?’ Ed asked meaningfully, noting how Oswald’s eyelids fluttered, the long lashes beating the air like butterfly wings.

‘You want me to show you the answers to your riddles now?’ Oswald breathed, his voice seeming to echo in his ears.

Ed nodded magnanimously and Oswald stood.  
He stripped slowly with exaggerated movements and not so exaggerated sighs. As he slid his clothes from his body, the chemical racing through his veins made it feel as if time was slowing down, the material feeling silky and erotic as each piece of clothing fell from him, exposing his flesh to the cool air. Ed watched as if in a trance but Oswald saw him bite his lip before salving it with his pink tongue. Oswald rolled his shoulders as he imagined the sensation of that tongue on his own body and he rotated his hips, letting gravity remove his trousers. He stepped from them, giggling at a momentary feeling of vertigo and weightlessness and posed for Ed appropriately.

Ed whispered a string of half formed curse words at the sight of Oswald. He had never doubted that Oswald would comply with his requests but it was something else to see his fantasy realised so completely. Oswald wore a black pair of thigh high velvet stockings and a matching black garter belt artistically outlined with lace. Oswald ran his own long fingers up and over his body, showing Ed his similarly matching fingernail polish and spread his lean arms wide. The darkness of the material accentuated Oswald’s creamy white skin perfectly and his numerous scars and bruises were akin to splashes of paint on a pale canvas. The colours were more vibrant than usual thanks to the chemical Ed had inhaled and he wanted nothing more than to touch the multicoloured, shifted mini auroras for himself.

‘Do I get a prize for guessing correctly?’ Oswald chuckled, revelling in Ed’s appreciative expression.

‘Oh yes’, Ed said thickly, ‘Come here and take it’.

‘You love it when I dress up don’t you?’ Oswald teased.

‘I’m never going to let me live that down’, Ed chuckled as Oswald quietly hummed a few bars of ‘Wake Up Alone’.

Oswald smiled smugly as he approached the bed and looped his arms around Ed’s neck.

‘Here’s a riddle’, Oswald purred, lowering one hand.

Ed gasped as Oswald stroked the conspicuous bulge in his trousers, the words of the riddle tickling the sensitive skin of his ear as Oswald whispered them.

‘What’s the only better than dressing up?’ Oswald asked and nibbled Ed’s earlobe as a physical question mark.

The next thing Oswald knew, he was on his back, the green satin sheets pleasantly cool beneath the skin of his exposed ass, the lace tickling his nether regions.

Ed shucked off his jacket and loosened his tie, his brown hair curling as it stuck to his forehead. He removed his glasses and carefully folded them. As he bent down to place them on the nightstand, Oswald saw an obvious tent poke against Ed’s suit trousers and lost patience with Ed’s slow pace.

‘Don’t keep me waiting, Riddler’, Oswald commanded.

The use of the name did exactly what Oswald hoped it would.  
Ed took a switchblade from his trouser pocket and with a few surgical slices, Oswald’s garter belt and briefs fell away from his hips. Ed flung the tattered material away and Oswald ground his knees together, savouring the contrast of the cool air on his exposed crotch and the heat building in his lower stomach. Oswald gasped as Ed physically pulled his knees apart, lowering himself down.  
As Oswald gazed into Ed’s dark eyes, he felt as if he were being sucked in. The shadowy core at the centre of Ed’s chocolate brown eyes was so diluted that Oswald could see himself reflected in the depths. An intense hunger bled from Ed’s focused stare as he slowly surveyed the prize beneath him. Watching Ed map every part of him made Oswald’s heart flutter as he luxuriated in the scrutiny. Even with eidetic memory, Ed still took the time to appreciate Oswald’s naked form every time they were together.  
Ed kissed him on the mouth and Oswald smiled as he detected the frenzied movement of Ed fully tearing off his tie and unbuttoning his shirt while they kissed. He squirmed as Ed’s tongue explored his mouth, simultaneously savouring the smooth surface of the satin blanket beneath his ass cheeks and balls. The way the material glided along his skin made his sack tighten and his hips roll eagerly.

After what seemed like an age, Oswald heard a fluttering sound as Ed’s tie shirt was cast to the floor and Ed drew back. Oswald licked his lips in anticipation and to chase the taste of Ed’s kiss before it faded. Ed leant back, still kneeling on the bed and unbuckled his belt. The clink was music to Oswald’s ears and he sat up, taking control.

Ed’s heart was loud in his ears as Oswald took hold of his hips and helped lower his trousers. Ed was grateful he had decided to go commando to save time as Oswald’s head lowered automatically towards his waiting erection.

Taking a second to lathe his own fingers with a coiling tongue, Oswald then wasted no further time taking Ed’s head into his mouth. Ed gulped at the encompassing warmth as Oswald’s lips formed a tight seal and he began to suck. Ed bucked his hips slowly, careful to keep his enthusiasm in check as Oswald took more and more of his length in. Ed shivered, feeling the barest hints of Oswald’s sharp teeth on his foreskin enhancing the enthralling, pleasurable rhythm Oswald was creating. Ed entwined his fingers in Oswald’s hair, spurring him on. His nails traced through the feather like hair like a master rewarding an obedient pet and Oswald gave an almost avian croon in reply.

Ed opened his eyes as the croon changed into a moan that spilled out from Oswald’s lips and saw with relish that Oswald remained a master of multitasking. Ed watched hypnotised as Oswald added a second finger to his own entrance even as he continued to fellate Ed. Oswald’s black nail polish glistened with clear juices and the blush on his cheeks intensified as he finger fucked himself. His eyes were closed and Ed sighed as he wondered if Oswald was imagining Ed’s cock inside him.

Oswald kissed the air, picturing Ed’s member sliding in and out of his loosened hole as he added another finger. He and Ed had often made love before but whatever Ed had cooked up for tonight was his favourite mix yet. It had never been so easy before to prepare himself for the inevitable, sublime feeling of Ed’s cock inside him and Oswald prayed that soon Ed would make his fantasy a reality.

When Oswald opened half hooded eyes and looked up at Ed, raising one, perfectly sculpted eyebrow coquettishly, Ed couldn’t restrain himself any longer.

He pushed Oswald’s shoulders back and his cock, hard and engorged with blood, slid from Oswald’s lips with an audible pop. Oswald lay back and as he removed his soaked fingers from his entrance, Ed caught the scent of desire in the air. Fully discarding his trousers, he lifted Oswald’s hips and positioned his legs against his shoulder, careful to cradle his injured knee. Ed rubbed his cheek along one velvet enshrined leg, enjoying the contrast between it and Oswald’s otherwise naked body.

‘Ready?’ Ed asked, positioning himself.

Oswald pressed a button hidden in one pillar of the four poster as an answer. Automated panels on the wall rotated exposing a large mirror. Ed looked at Oswald questioningly.

‘So that both of you can enjoy me’, Oswald explained, ‘You love an audience’.

‘We love you more’, Ed corrected, kissing Oswald’s leg in gratitude.

‘Show me’, Oswald said haughtily.

Ed obeyed.

Oswald keened as Ed’s cock slid into his entrance and completely filled his passage. He barely had time to savour the way the aching emptiness was vanishing before Ed began to thrust vigorously. Oswald’s whole body moved with Ed’s enthusiasm, his toes curling as his fingers clenched into the blanket.

Oswald’s husky sighs were addictive to Ed: a siren song enticing him to give into his instincts as he thrust into Oswald again and again, the familiar warmth of Oswald’s entrance embracing him, seeming to draw him closer and closer. He gripped Oswald’s hips and held him in place, the better to get in even deeper.

The sound of his own, increasingly loud, sighs and Ed’s unrelenting rhythm was intoxicating to Oswald and, as he arched his back, he stole a glance at their reflections in the mirror. Ed’s head lolled back, his mouth wide as he made love to him and Oswald was struck by the erotic realisation that technically he was being fucked by two men at once: Ed and the Riddler. The thought was so tantalising, the sight so primal and Ed’s naked desire so arousing that Oswald instantly reached for his neglected, leaking cock.

Only for Ed to take hold of his wrist and halt its journey. Oswald’s pale eyed look of thwarted annoyance met Ed’s smug smirk.

‘You don’t play fair’, Oswald grumbled, teeth gritted as Ed, the bastard, deliberately slowed his pace now that Oswald had made the mistake of showing him just how eager he was.

‘Do you want me to stop?’ Ed asked teasingly.

‘No!’ Oswald said but as Ed suddenly bucked his hips, gasped desperately, ‘Ah! God yes! There! Like that!’

‘Make up your mind’, Ed growled, thrusting into Oswald to punctuate each syllable, ‘Yes or No?’

‘Fuck Ed! Ah!’ Oswald cried, all thoughts of playful defiance banished by the sheer pleasure of Ed hitting him right there, ‘Fuck me! Please fuck me!’

Once again, Ed obeyed, fingers still fastened around Oswald’s wrist even as he felt Oswald strain to break his grip. Sadistically, Ed took hold of Oswald’s cock with his other hand, tracing his fingertips along Oswald’s member, just light enough to be felt and not hard enough to bring any relief.

Oswald growled deep in his throat and, with surprising strength, pulled Oswald’s wrist towards his mouth. Ed gasped but did not slow his thrusting as Oswald’s mouth formed a hard seal around his wrist. The hot wetness of Oswald’s tongue on the sensitive skin of his wrist was soon twinned with a pleasurable pain as Oswald began to suck hard. The sensation sent erotic jolts up Ed’s arm and along his back and in retaliation, Ed began to pump Oswald’s member.

Oswald released Ed’s wrist as he gave an involuntary cry of exaltation. The pleasure built and built as he was stimulated from both the front and back. The sound of skin slapping against skin was akin to applause and Oswald felt himself being carried away as a wave of bliss began to fill his brain.

Ed, seeing Oswald’s brow furrowing as the threshold swiftly approached, pulled all the way out then back into Oswald’s entrance earning a strangled cry from the gangster which was immediately joined by Ed’s own compulsive moan. The walls of Oswald’s passage clenched around him and he ignored the growing ache in his arm, desperate to draw out their mutual pleasure as long as he could. Oswald’s pre-cum was running between his fingers, he could hear Oswald’s desperate pleading for him not to stop, he could smell the heady scent of their lovemaking and feel-and-and feel-!

With one, final, focused buck of Ed’s hips, both men came simultaneously, starbursts exploding behind their eyelids. Oswald’s legs spasmed against Ed’s shoulders as Ed’s back arched and Ed carefully helped Oswald ride out his orgasm with controlled pumps of his cock, cum leaking slowly between his slackening fingers.

As their orgasms died down a few seconds later, albeit seeming to last an eternity thanks to the chemical, both men lay side by side, exhausted yet contented. Clean up could come later, once the afterglow had faded.

‘Thanks for the souvenir’, Ed joked, holding up his wrist so Oswald could see it.

‘Would you like another one to match?’ Oswald grinned, planting a kiss on the red teethmarks and the nebulous dark bruise swirling within the ring.


	53. Sleep Alone, Wake Up Alone

‘Seems I’m not the only one sleeping alone tonight’, Oswald says.

Ed clicks the safety off, trying to ignore how his fingers are shaking as he grips the gun. Oswald sits up, the blanket sliding off his shoulders as he stretches exaggeratedly. Ed swallows hard as he sees Oswald isn’t wearing a shirt. His numerous scars are nearly luminous in the moonlight coming through the window blinds and his eyes are pale as he smirks at Ed, seemingly unbothered by the proximity of a loaded firearm. Ed can practically see the old joke running through Oswald’s head: ‘Is that a pistol in your pocket or are you just happy to see me?’

‘You don’t seem concerned how I found you’.

‘Ed’, Oswald deadpans, ‘I told you I was staying here after that day at the pier. Remember?’

Ed readjusts his grip. He had forgotten that.

‘I think we’re past posturing, don’t you?’ Oswald says, using a fingertip to move the gun barrel away from him.

Ed, too bothered by his uncharacteristic forgetfulness, does not resist as the barrel is redirected. There are too many thoughts in his head but beneath them all, he can hear a low laugh from his other half.

‘I am not troubled’, Ed says pointedly and loudly, the better to drown out his alter’s amusement.

‘That’s what bothering you?’ Oswald asks, the slightest hint of annoyance in his voice, ‘You felt the need to wake me up for that?’

‘I figured why wait for you to get a chance to track me down and seek your revenge?’

Oswald scoffs.

‘I had no intention of tracking you down’.

Ed’s brow furrows. He has expected Oswald to be as furious as he had been at the bank. It wasn’t in his nature to let bygones be bygones so easily.

‘What’s the point?’, Oswald laughs, shrugging, ‘We both know you’ll end up crawling back sooner or later’.

His eyes widen in mock surprise, as if Ed has just materialised out of thin air.

‘Seems it’s sooner’, he concludes, lip curling.

‘I’m not crawling’, Ed says, trying his best to sound intimidating.

Technically he holds all the power here. Oswald’s half naked, in bed and Ed’s got a loaded gun. So why does Ed feel like he’s on the back foot?

‘Like you’re not ‘troubled’?’ Oswald smirks, pushing the blanket down as he gets out of bed.

Ed makes an involuntary noise of surprise when Oswald stands. Oswald is completely naked.

‘Oh please’, Oswald says, ‘It’s nothing you haven’t seen before’.

Oswald crosses the bedroom to a drinks cabinet and pours himself a tumbler. He knocks it back in one. Ed doesn’t know whether to look or not: if he doesn’t Oswald might interpret it as a victory and if he does, he’ll have to try not to notice how lean Oswald’s limbs are, the way he’s leaning against the cabinet, one leg slightly in front of the other that’s doing little to conceal the length between his-  
Ed hears Oswald give a knowing laugh and to his dismay, realises he’s been caught looking.

‘Honestly, I’m surprised the ‘troubled’ bit stung you that much’, Oswald says, swirling the ice in his glass, ‘Good. Almost makes up for the inconvenience of being locked in a bank vault in close proximity to a man who smells like a mix between a chemical refinery and body odour’.

Oswald gives a disgusted shiver and this time Ed gets to smile.

‘You deserved that’, he says, ‘You were going to rob us anyway’.

‘At least _I_ was honest about using you to get the cash’, Oswald counters, ‘And at least I seem to have spent less time incarcerated than your dearly beloved’.

Oswald savours the way Ed’s eyes dart away and leaps on his uncertainty like a cat on a mouse.

‘When exactly are you planning on breaking her out anyway?’ Oswald asks, ‘Shouldn’t you be waiting by the phone? She gets one call if I remember correctly’.

‘You’ve been thinking about these little jabs since the bank haven’t you?’ Ed asks sourly.

‘Only the best for you Ed’, Oz taunts, ‘Do you really have so little self-respect? It baffles me what you see in this woman besides the physical’.

‘I need to know the answer to the riddle’.

Ed’s eyes widen at the hard sound of Oswald suddenly slamming his glass onto the top of the cabinet.

‘Oh for crying out-!’ Oswald snaps and gives a frustrated growl before continuing with his tirade, ‘There is _no_ riddle Ed! You know she’s using you and you know sooner or later she’ll cast you aside! Where’s the mystery in that?!’

‘No! She’ll love me! She will!’

‘Ed! Riddler! Both of you! You told me once that ‘love was a weakness’! Why do you keep ignoring your own advice?!’

‘You don’t understa-‘ Ed begins but Oswald practically snarls, his state of undress surprisingly not detracting from his vehemence.

‘I don’t understand?!’ Oswald shouts, ‘Are you being serious right now?! Need I remind you Ed, we’ve been down this road before and it is a very. Dead. End’.

‘It’s-it’s, no, you don’t underst-‘ Ed babbles, hating how he can feel himself trembling under the awful weight of the truth, ‘Because I-I don’t know….I just-I just can’t _think straight_ when I’m around her!’

Ed is startled when he hears a thud and realises he has dropped the gun. It makes a squeaking noise upon impact with the floor. Oswald is looking at Ed incredulously. Almost as if he is insulted Ed brought a toy to threaten him with instead of a real gun. Ed, deflated, can feel the emotions he has been struggling to contain begin to spill out. He fixes his eyes on the floor.

‘It’s all wrong’, he says dismayed and downcast that these melodramatic breakdowns always seem to happen in front of Oswald, ‘I know it’s crazy and stupid but I’m just so desperate to _believe_ that…I just want to feel….

‘What?’

Ed swallows hard, struggling to articulate whilst simultaneously trying to supress the tears building in his eyes. Why the Hell is Oswald speaking to him so gently now?! When Oswald sits beside him on the bed, Ed can’t bear to look him in the eyes. He’s supposed to be the Riddler! Yet he feels more like a child who is due a scolding.  
He’s come here because he needs to hear the truth. He knows Oswald will tell him the truth.

‘Whole’, Ed whispers.

‘Well, when was the last time you felt that way?’

‘When…’

‘Spit it out’.

‘When I was living with you’.

Ed can’t help it He turns his head and looks into Oswald’s eyes. They are soft with concern and sympathy. Oswald never looks at anybody else like that.

‘I need _you_ Oswald’, Ed confesses, his eyes conveying all the meaning the statement entails.

For good measure, he reaches out, hand no longer trembling, and places it on Oswald’s good knee. Oswald’s breath hitches and Ed notices his cock give a visible pulse at the contact.

‘Are-are you asking me to-‘ Oswald begins but this time Ed interjects.

‘You know I am. Just like you knew I’d come here. For this’.

Oswald nods and Ed sees his cheeks colour as Ed’s hand drifts up his leg, towards his crotch.

‘How many times do I have to say it?’ Oswald whispers with a quiet laugh, ‘I know you Ed. _All_ of you. And I know what you’re really running from’.

‘I’m not running’, Ed says, heart pounding even as he readies himself for what’s to come, ‘You said it yourself, she’s a virus. I-I need-ah!’

Oswald is on top of him, the movement too swift for Ed to counter and he winces as he feels Oswald’s cool grip on his wrists. Oswald is stronger than he looks. Ed reflects on how he always has been. He wonders if Oswald can feel his pulse racing beneath his fingertips and bites his lip as those green eyes, shining in the darkness descend towards him. In the same moment Ed feels his lips part automatically as he runs his tongue along them. His legs part as well, Oswald’s knee sliding between them. Ed catches a glimpse of Oswald’s erection and the thought that he can provoke such a reaction from someone like The Penguin is strangely flattering.

‘I think I can help get her out of your system’, Oswald purrs, half hooded eyes glinting, ‘Riddler’.

As their lips make contact and Ed is overcome by the heat and softness of the sensation, he reflects on how there is nothing more arousing to him than the unknown.  
Except perhaps, the finding out.


	54. The Addiction of Warmth (Masseuse AU)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Anonymous asked: Could you write an au where Ed is a Masseuse and Oswald is one of his clients that can't stay away

‘Remember to breathe’, Ed said gently, taking hold of Oswald’s knee.

He smiled fondly as he heard Oswald take deliberately deep inhalations. It always took him a while to relax into the final part of the massage session. The most painful part. Glancing up, he saw Oswald’s head was turned away as usual: he never watched Ed work on his knee. Ed watched Oswald’s chest rise and fall, his eyes mapping every scar on Oswald’s pale flesh. Each one glistening from the massage oil Ed had previously rubbed into them.  
Each mark hard won: medals earned from Gotham’s underworld for cunning, ruthlessness and uncompromising, indomitable will.

And yet, Oswald had cried during his first massage session as Ed’s client. 

With the cold weather, Oswald’s damaged leg had begun to pain him and his doctor had recommended massage as an alternate form of pain relief since Oswald despised medication. Oswald had been sceptical and rather brusque, only removing his trousers in exchange for a modesty preserving towel when Ed had insisted it was necessary for him to better access the damaged joint. Oswald had also refused to lie down, choosing instead to defiantly perch on the edge of the bed. Ed had acquiesced to the arrangement, unwilling to push a dangerous criminal’s boundaries and had begun the session.

Ed had barely started when he had heard Oswald’s quiet sobs and halted.  
Ed was familiar with the reaction: some clients could be triggered by the gentle movements and become nostalgic for their childhood. Or in the act of relaxing, be cruelly and ironically overwhelmed by the stress the massages were designed to lessen and break down. Usually Ed would stop or continue as the client requested, sometimes leaving the room for a few moments to allow his clients to collect themselves or alternatively prepare for departure if they felt overwhelmed.  
He had not expected a powerful crime lord like The Penguin to be a crier.  
The music Ed always played during his sessions was a mix of lullabies designed to soothe his clients. But Oswald had been affected by one particular tune that had caused him to call an abrupt end to the session before bursting into tears like a child. At the shocking sight of such a violent criminal brought to such an inconsolable state, all of Ed’s training had evaporated. Ed, at a loss at what to do, had just held Oswald, an arm draped around his shoulders. Even as his brain had screamed at him for his unprofessionalism, his heart had melted at the naked grief on his client’s face and his vulnerable, half dressed state. Ed had expected a punch in the face or a concealed knife thrust into his gut for his audacity but instead Oswald had leant into Ed’s embrace, seemingly grateful for the sympathy and lack of judgment. Once Oswald had calmed down, he had apologised for the outburst (apparently the song had been a favourite of his late mother’s) and left, pressing a generous wad of bills into Ed’s hand on the way out.  
Each tip afterwards was equally generous and the sessions had become weekly.

Ed never used the music again but thankfully was spared any awkward silences. Oswald was more than happy to talk about everything and anything and before long, Ed’s usual policy of answering any questions during a session with ‘yes’ or ‘no’ was dispensed with in favour of long conversations on art, history, music and numerous other topics. Ed had tried to decline Oswald’s tips, considering the verbal exchanges reward enough but Oswald had insisted.

One day, Ed had asked why Oswald had increased his sessions and received a cryptic answer.

‘Warmth is addictive’.

Ed loved that answer and began to look forward to each session.  
Oswald always reminded Ed of a bird of prey at a falconer’s wrist. No matter how cruel and vicious the news reports said he was, Oswald always came back to Ed’s parlour with a smile, obediently following Ed’s instructions, trusting him to help him. To Ed, having that trust was simultaneously humbling and flattering. Like Oswald’s scars, it had been hard won too.  
What had once seemed unthinkable was second nature. Oswald would barely be through Ed’s door before he would be disrobing. Always with Ed’s assistance due to his damaged limb of course. Despite Ed always taking care to avert his eyes, Ed couldn’t help but notice the firm muscles in Oswald’s arms and his surprisingly solid build, so carefully concealed beneath the soft, expensive fabric of his suits. The way his fingers always traced Ed’s wrist in a subtle, thankful touch, his fingertips teasing over his veins making his heart flutter-

Oswald’s knees ground together beneath the soft white towel and Ed stopped rotating Oswald’s joint for a moment, choosing instead to focus on applying pressure to the inflamed flesh. Oswald never cried out or winced in pain but Ed had become adept at noticing the subtle cues that signalled his discomfort. The colours on display always attracted his eye. Pale skin melted into russet with purple veins melting into vibrant blue seemingly painted onto Oswald’s flesh like the strands of a spider web. Ed understood Oswald’s negative reaction to it: the injury was painful and the memories it evoked were equally so. But it made the colours no less beautiful.

After a few more moments, Ed’s hands drifted downwards to Oswald’s ankle, swollen from compensating for his damaged knee. Oswald shivered as Ed’s hand drifted beneath his foot and Ed smiled knowingly. The Penguin was ticklish.  
He began to rub the foot, feeling the warmth of his hands spread to Oswald’s chilly toes. Ed thought (not for the first time) that it was a shame Oswald did not share his namesake’s insulated feet. Even in the warmth of the uncharacteristically sunny Summer Gotham had been enjoying, Oswald’s hands and feet were always cold.

‘Now the good weather’s rolling in, you won’t need me for a while’, Ed joked, finishing up with the toes.

Oswald did not laugh. Ed straightened and went to wash his hands. Oswald’s lack of conversation was beginning to weigh on him. He had been quiet since the session had started, unspoken words hanging heavy in the usually relaxed atmosphere. Ed wondered if Oswald would miss their sessions as much as he would? Ed never talked to anybody else: he worked and lived alone. He had never noticed how little he talked until he had become friends with Oswald. Because that’s what they were. They weren’t just clients any more.

‘Ed, may I ask you something?’

Ed was taken aback by the soft hesitance in Oswald’s voice. He turned from the sink as he dried his hands, trying to appear as open as possible even as he felt his heart begin to race.

‘Of course’, Ed said, his voice sounding painfully neutral. Like an artificial recording of a human voice.

‘Do you offer…other services?’

Oswald still wasn’t looking at Ed. His hands gripped the edge of the bed, betraying his eagerness despite his polite, dispassionate tone.

‘What kind of services do you have in mind?’ Ed asked, hands folded in front of him even as he felt his fingers clutch the soft material.

‘You know what kind’, Oswald said, more bluntly this time.  
Like a patient in a dentist’s chair asking for a tooth to be pulled.

‘Perhaps’, Ed said, his tongue feeling thick and clumsy in his dry mouth, ‘Nobody’s ever asked before’.

It was half a lie. Ed knew the old assumptions about massage parlours. It was one of the reasons he never referred to himself as a ‘masseur’. The word carried unseemly connotations he hadn’t wished to encourage. it was why he always called himself a ‘massage therapist’. It hadn’t stopped all of his prospective clients from pushing his boundaries but Ed had always swiftly shattered their fantasies. As a result, Ed wasn’t surprised at Oswald’s inquiry. He was surprised however at the sudden heat in his loins as his brain conjured up images of the ‘services’ Oswald was referring to.

Oswald raised his head and fixed his eyes on Ed. Ed swallowed hard at the pride in Oswald’s bearing, his eyes intense despite his reddened cheeks.

‘How much?’ he asked.

Ed opened his mouth in surprise and was startled to hear words tumble from between his lips.

‘I don’t want your money’.

Oswald’s demeanour changed instantly.  
The confident façade fell away, once more revealing the wounded individual Ed had come to know. His pale eyes glistened as they darted this way and that as Oswald rose from the bed. Ed realised he was looking for his clothes.

‘I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to-‘ Oswald said distractedly, ‘Just forget what I said and I’ll get out of your way-‘

‘No!’

Oswald stopped in his tracks and Ed held a hand over his own mouth. He hadn’t meant to shout.

‘No’, he repeated, more softly, ‘That’s not what I meant’.

He approached Oswald. Oswald took a reflexive step back but with the bed behind him there was nowhere to go. Ed stopped a respectful distance away.

‘I meant there’s no charge’, Ed said softly, trying to stop himself shaking, ‘Not for you’.

After a second’s hesitation, he reached forward and took hold of Oswald’s hand. Oswald did not resist as Ed laid his other hand over it and began to rub. Oswald sighed at the warmth of Ed’s touch.

‘Why?’ Oswald breathed, stepping forward.

‘It would be my pleasure’, Ed said huskily as Oswald’s hand slipped onto his hip.

They were almost flush now, Oswald gazing up at Ed, his near naked state only fanning Ed’s arousal. Oswald’s grip was firm on his hip and Ed mirrored the gesture, careful not to disturb the white towel tied around Oswald’s waist.

‘Pl-pleasure?’ Oswald repeated.

‘To sample that beautiful flesh of yours more’, Ed paused and stroked Oswald’s chin before continuing with a smile, ‘Intimately, Mr Penguin’.

The towel fell to the floor.


	55. Merman!Oswald

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A merman!oswald AU based off a beautiful piece of art by @DeathbyOTPin123 on Tumblr.

Ed’s mouth tasted of sand.   
He wasn’t sure if this was an improvement over the coppery tang of blood though as Ed sat up, he decided his current state while not ideal, was definitely an improvement over being dead.  
He was sitting beneath a wooden jetty, the grey waters of Gotham Bay lapping at the gritty equally grey shoreline. Ed rubbed his aching eyes and coughed harshly. He spat a gobbet of red tinged saliva onto the sand and sucked his teeth. Those that were still attached at least. He was surprised to feel only a dull throbbing rather than the burning agony he had been feeling before he had entered the water. He was also surprised that Sofia’s henchman had missed.

The two of them had been right behind Ed, guns trained at his back. Ed had dared them to fire and despite himself had flinched when a shot had rang out. He had barely had time to register the fact he had felt no impact from the shot when there had been another bang and his neck had stung severely. Ed had cried out in pain and fallen into the bay, the momentum causing him to topple forward.   
There had been warm wetness beneath his fingers as he had clutched his neck until it had been eclipsed by the freezing water that knocked the air from his lungs and his glasses from his face. Ed had thrashed against the icy water as it rushed down his throat but had felt his body give out almost immediately. Already weakened from Sofia’s torture and overwhelmed by the cold water, Ed’s body decided to drag him into the merciful embrace of unconsciousness despite Ed’s swiftly dwindling objections. As he had felt his limbs turn to lead, dragging him down into the depths, he had thought, as his thoughts had slipped away like silver fleeting fish, he had heard a splash.   
Noticing drag marks leading from the water to where he was sitting, Ed realised he hadn’t imagined it.

There was another trail that led away from Ed. The track was odd: wide and almost akin to a the trail of a passing snake albeit much larger. Ed got gingerly to his feet and brushed himself down though the movement did little to dislodge the sand clinging to his suit. He followed the trail, blinking hard and eyes narrowed as he tried to focus without his glasses.

‘Hello Sleepyhead’, a familiar voice said.

‘Oswald?’ Ed asked, heading towards the direction of the voice.

He thought he could see Oswald sitting with his back to him partially hidden behind one of the large pillars supporting the dock above them. The coat Ed had given him after breaking him out of Arkham was colourfully distinctive even with impaired vision. 

‘How?’ Ed asked, baffled both by Oswald’s presence and how Oswald seemed to have been his rescuer despite his physical handicap, ‘Did you already kill Sofia?’

‘No. She left the mansion to pursue Jim Gordon’.

Ed halted, stunned and angry that Oswald had seemingly failed to capitalise on the distraction he had provided him with.

‘Why didn’t you just stay at the home?’ Ed demanded, ‘Wait till she came there and killed her?’

‘Then I wouldn’t have been here on time’, Oswald said quietly.

The softly spoken words and the realization that Oswald had sacrificed pursuit of Sofia to save his life instantly quenched the anger welling up inside Ed. He shivered from the cold, feeling numb from the shock of the revelation.

‘You gave up your revenge for me?’ Ed asked, disbelief obvious.

Oswald sighed.

‘Trust is so very hard to find in Gotham’, Oswald said, a strange emotional undercurrent to his voice, ‘But I trust you, Ed’.

Oswald leant his head back against the pillar and Ed barely heard the words Oswald muttered.

‘At this point I don’t have much choice’.

‘Are you alright?’ Ed asked, resuming his approach towards Oswald.

‘Don’t come over here!’

Ed sighed, exasperated at the sudden fear in Oswald’s voice. His head hurt too much to unravel the intricacies of Oswald’s contrary nature.

‘Oswald, do you trust me or not?’ Ed asked bluntly.

Oswald gave a heavier sigh and turned his head. Ed saw a rueful smile on his face. 

‘Fine’, Oswald said resignedly, ‘Just… brace yourself’.

Oswald crawled out from behind the pillar and Ed’s jaw dropped in shock.

Oswald was still wearing the coat Ed had given him and his Arkham shirt but both articles of clothing were soaking wet. His skin glistened and his hair was matted, clinging to his forehead as he used his arms to pull himself along the ground.   
On his neck were three long slits. 

‘Gills’, Ed brain told him, ‘He has gills’.

From the waist down, Oswald’s lower half was the body of a large fish, the tail sinuous and glimmering despite the dull weather. The human flesh at his waist gave way to grey scales framing a bright, white underbelly, akin to the colouring of a Great White Shark, Long tail fins trailed in the sand as Oswald slid sinuously into a sitting position. Oswald held up a hand and after a squint, Ed saw that Oswald had retrieved his glasses. He accepted them and put them on after a cursory wipe on his jacket.

‘How long are you going to keep staring at me?’ Oswald asked.

‘It actually explains a lot’, Ed said, brow furrowing as he processed this new, incredible information.

‘Really?’ Oswald asked incredulously.

‘You are very good at surviving attempts to drown you’, Ed observed, ‘Not to mention the amount of raw fish you eat’.

‘Lots of people like sushi Ed’, Oswald said drily, cocking his head, ‘You don’t seem very surprised to see me like this’. 

‘It’s Gotham’, Ed shrugged.

‘True’, Oswald acquiesced, his face betraying the fact he seemed to have momentarily forgotten that a merman arguably paled in comparison to people coming back from the dead.

Ed sat down beside him, careful to keep a respectful distance. Oswald pulled his coat around himself, his tail tracing the sand a little too quickly to be mistaken for idle movement.

‘So, natural mutation or Indian Hill?’ Ed asked casually.

‘Natural. Thankfully, Strange never found out’, Oswald said with a grimace, ‘He would probably have had me jumping through hoops or something. And not to use a cliché but my eyes are up here’.

‘Sorry’, Ed said, determinedly looking up at the grey sky instead of at Oswald’s tail, ‘Are there others like you?’

‘The only one I knew about was my father so, no’ Oswald said sadly.

They sat in silence for a moment, both adjusting to Oswald’s unveiling of his true form. As seagulls cried overhead, Ed, overcome by curiosity, asked:-  
‘May I?’

‘Knock yourself out’, Oswald said, seemingly amused it had taken so long for Ed to ask.

As Ed placed his palm on Oswald’s tail, Oswald gave an abrupt shiver and his tail lashed. Ed removed his hand immediately.

‘Sorry’, Ed said, holding up a hand apologetically, ‘I didn’t realise your leg injury transferred over’.

‘No, no’, Oswald said, cheeks flushing, ‘It’s fine’.

‘You’re sure?’

Oswald nodded and Ed resumed. 

The scales were like smooth leather beneath his fingers rather than the fish skin he had expected, offering no resistance to Ed’s palm as it slid along the tail. He carefully avoided Oswald’s fins in case they were as ticklish as human toes. Here and there, scars interrupted the scales as pink and white stripes.   
Ed wondered if they were always there regardless of which form Oswald was in and in which form he had gained them.

‘This is going to sound weird’, Ed said, licking his dry, chapped lips.

‘Is it really?’ Oswald joked.

‘When I was underwater, did you kiss me?’

Oswald shrugged casually as he pretended to refold his trousers resting in the sand beside him, obviously doffed in the process of his transformation. Ed noticed the way Oswald’s cheeks were burning and made a mental note to ask Oswald if he was capable of bio-luminescence later.

‘You passed out and I had to give you air’, Oswald said offhandedly, ‘Don’t read into it’.

Ed reached up with his other hand and touched the scratch on his neck. Feeling dried blood beneath his fingers, he realised beneath the hard, caked surface that his skin felt smooth and undamaged.

‘Your saliva must be a coagulant’, Ed mused, his lack of pain making more and more sense to him, ‘And anaesthetic?’

‘Antiseptic too. I’m a walking-‘ Oswald made a noise and corrected himself, ‘‘Swimming’ first aid kit’.

‘What about my neck?’ Ed asked, pointing to his lack of wound.

‘You were bleeding’, Oswald explained, ‘When I shot Sofia’s thugs one of them managed to graze you with a lucky shot. Don’t worry I didn’t give you a hickey’.

Ed laughed obligingly and asked:- ‘Any other surprises?’

‘Isn’t this enough?’ Oswald asked, spreading his arms wide and arching his tail in demonstration.

Ed marvelled at the flexible strength in the tail, muscles tensing beneath his fingers.

‘Can you talk to fish?’ Ed asked, half-jokingly.

‘What would fish have to talk about?’ Oswald laughed, ‘That’s just silly’.

He suddenly made an odd, husky gasp and pointed down with a shaking finger.

‘Uh, Ed, you’re getting a bit close to my-‘

Ed instantly removed his hand, grinning apologetically.

‘Thank you for saving me’, Ed said, feeling foolish.   
The words did not seem to do the act justice. Or what Oswald had revealed to him in confidence despite everything that had happened between them.

‘Don’t mention it’, Oswald said.

‘How do you…change?’

‘I have to be completely underwater’.

‘For how long?’

‘Depends. Takes less time if I’m under stress’, Oswald said, smiling mirthlessly, ‘Thankfully’.

‘Does it hurt?’

Oswald reflected for a moment then nodded once. Ed didn’t push him for further details.

‘Is that why you were so nervous about the freeze plan?’ Ed asked, realization dawning, ‘Being doused in water when you defrosted?’

‘The being frozen alive part was more than enough to worry about, thank you’, Oswald deadpanned.

Ed chuckled and shook his head at Oswald’s confused expression.

‘Frozen fish sticks’, Ed said, the weak joke funnier than it should have been combined with Oswald’s scornful reaction to it.

‘See, this is why I don’t tell anyone’, Oswald grumbled but after a second of pretence, he was laughing too.

Gradually their laughter died away. Both men looked out across the harbour, both at ease but also aware they would have to move soon. Resume their plans. It was amazing how much could change in a single afternoon in Gotham.

‘Would you have told me one day?’ Ed asked gently, ‘If things hadn’t changed between us?’

He risked a glance at Oswald’s face. His eyes were downcast, staring unseeing at the sand. Ed could see the memories surfacing in Oswald’s mind. Better times. Easier times.

‘I wanted to’, Oswald said in a small voice, ‘I should have told you a lot of things’. 

He laughed again, more forced this time as if to overpower a creeping melancholy.

‘It’s like in the stories’, Oswald said, ‘Merpeople can never seem to find our voices until it’s too late’.

Ed nodded, feeling a warmth suffuse his chilled form at Oswald’s honesty. He had missed him.

‘Well I know now’, Ed said, getting to his feet determinedly and brushing his rear, ‘Shall we?’

Oswald shook his head, his tail lashing in obvious irritation.

‘I can’t change back until I dry off’, Oswald said, waving a hand dismissively, ‘You had better get back to the Narrows. I’ll wait h-ah!’

Before Oswald could object, Ed had scooped him up into his arms. He adjusted his arms so he was carrying Oswald bridal style, his tail dangling over Ed’s arm. Oswald clutched his folded trousers to his chest as he sputtered at Ed’s bold movement.

‘We can use the car those mobsters were using’, Ed said, then cast a distasteful eye at their surroundings, ‘Besides, I have a strong desire to never, ever see this pier again’.

Oswald let the matter drop, obviously seeing the logic in Ed’s words despite his vulnerable position and looped his arms around Ed’s neck.

‘I agree’, Oswald said with a grimace at the bay.


	56. A Narrow Escape

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> miss-olivia-cellophane asked: I haven't done this before, so I hope I'm doing it right: I would love to see your take on Ed and Oswald's trip from Arkham to the Narrows in 4x15. Feel free to combine with other prompts that ask for specific dialog or whatever feels right. Anyway, love your writing! Have a good day!

‘I suppose I shouldn’t have expected subtlety from you’, Oswald commented, glancing for the umpteenth time in the wing mirror.

It was purely out of instinctive caution born from a lifetime of looking over his shoulder. Despite their bombastic exit, he and Ed seemed to have made a clean getaway from Arkham. Ed had obviously planned their escape route in advance, using his photographic memory to evade any potential pursuers by driving down Gotham backstreets that were nearly, but not quite, too small for the van he had hijacked.

‘Sometimes blunt force trauma is the best strategy’, Ed said, reaching into the back without taking his eyes off the road, ‘Put this on’.

Oswald accepted the rather tattered striped coat.

‘It smells’, he grumbled, nose wrinkling at the musty smell emanating from the dusty fur collar.   
It might have been luxurious once. Before its previous owner had obviously died in it and been eaten by their own horde of pet cats.

‘Exactly’, Ed said, nonplussed, ‘You’ll fit right in’.

‘In where?’

‘I can be done with the teeth, the eyes or the mind. What am I?’

Oswald groaned as the answer presented itself.

‘The Narrows’, he sighed, ‘I’m not exactly popular down there you know’.

‘You’re getting good at riddles’, Ed said appraisingly.

As he stopped for a red light, he adjusted the mirror and let Oswald get a good look at his black eye from earlier. He smirked as Oswald’ reflection scowled at him.

‘Was this really necessary?’ Oswald asked, pointing to the swelling around his eye socket.

‘Had to look real’, Ed shrugged, as the lights turned green and the van moved off.

‘It felt real’, Oswald groused, rotating his shoulders, trying to make the coat feel comfortable as it rubbed against his over starched Arkham uniform.

‘Stop complaining’, Ed chided then waved a finger in mock admonishment, ‘Don’t make me turn this van around’.

Oswald stuck his tongue out petulantly to Ed’s amusement. They drove in silence for a while until they came to an underpass. They drove down into the darkness, the tunnel illuminated by orange lights.

‘Why The Narrows anyway?’ Oswald asked, leaning his head against his hand.

‘It’s a perfect base of operations’, Ed replied.

‘It’s her base of operations’, Oswald corrected, his voice too casual to actually be casual, ‘A little risky to keep working with her don’t you think?’

‘I am firmly in control’, Ed said, fingers readjusting on the wheel.

‘It won’t be your brain that makes the call Ed’, Oswald warned, ‘It’ll be an entirely different part of your anatomy’. 

‘Speaking from experience?’

Oswald shot Ed a look and was gratified to see him swallow hard even as he kept his eyes on the road. Orange lights darted across the surfaces of his glasses like comet tails fading into darkness.

‘Both of us are’, Oswald said, half under his breath.

He didn’t know to be disappointed or not that Ed didn’t respond. He could feel Ed’s eyes glancing in his direction even as his chin kept staring ahead. Oswald did the same, not wishing to seem eager for an answer. As they emerged back into daylight, the tension evaporated, as if the loaded silence had been a test. A test to see who, if anyone, would blink (or shoot) first.

‘So, no doubt you’ve got some brilliant plan to help me regain my throne?’ Oswald asked, tactfully changing the subject.

‘Of course’.

‘Care to enlighten me?’

‘All in good time’, Ed said, tapping the side of his nose.

‘We don’t have the time to waste on one of your big ‘ta daa’ unveiling’s’, Oswald deadpanned.

‘I made the time to liberate Martin’, Ed sniffed, ‘I’m sure you can indulge me with a bit of dramatic tension’.

Oswald conceded the point, his gratitude for Ed’s actions outweighing his impatience with Ed’s bewildering love of dramatics.

‘I would have loved to have seen Sofia’s face when you nabbed him right from under her nose’, Oswald grinned.

‘She wasn’t there, unfortunately’, Ed said, his disappointment obvious, ‘Would’ve saved us some trouble’.

‘True’, Oswald said but then added brightly, ‘Still I’m grateful your next priority was my own liberation’.

Ed drove the van into a waiting garage at the end of a graffit laden alleyway. He turned off the engine and turned to Oswald.

‘You know I wasn’t going to leave you in that place’. 

‘Well our deal was clear on-‘

‘Deal or no deal’, Ed said, face serious, ‘I was getting you out’.

Oswald just blinked. He had no idea what to say and half suspected Ed was playing some kind of game with him. Ed laughed softly.

‘I’ll understand if you’re sceptical’, he said, getting out of the van.

Oswald got out and shivered despite the coat. The Narrows always felt colder than the rest of Gotham. He blew on his bare hands and rubbed them fervently, trying to warm his chilled digits.

‘Why?’ he asked, tucking his hands under his arms as he walked around the back of the van. Ed pulled the shutter down, hiding the van inside the garage. He locked it and as he straightened, he held something out.

‘Because I’ve been alone in there too’, Ed said simply.

Oswald accepted the bundle, taken aback at how soft it felt in his hands. Looking down, he saw it was a pair of gloves. Soft and purple. His favourite colour. He opened his mouth to say something, anything, but Ed was already moving.

‘Besides I had to work quickly or you weren’t getting out at all: I knew that as soon as I rescued Martin she’d send her hit men’.

Oswald nodded. There would be time for sentiment later. They had a job to do.

‘How is Martin?’ Oswald asked hurrying after Ed as they turned the corner together.


	57. Summer of Gotham Event: Roommates

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> danniruthvan said:  
> Can you write Oswald’s thoughts after finding Ed and Lee bleeding out in the Narrows? I imagine him just rolling his eyes and telling his henchpeople to take ‘em back to the mansion.

‘You’re the latest addition to Gotham’s prestigious ‘Resurrection Club’, Oswald commented, ‘It seems they’ll let anyone in these days’.

Ed stirred slightly, the blankets feeling almost impossibly heavy on his sweat soaked frame. He gasped as a pain lanced up from the pit of his stomach making him instinctively curl in on himself, He blinked blearily, eyes watering despite the dim light of the room.

Despite his physical discomfort, the mattress beneath him felt soft and as he inched upwards to see more of his surroundings, he realised he was wearing silk pyjamas.  
Beside his bed, Oswald was reclining in a large armchair, flicking though a newspaper. Ed squinted, trying to make out the date on the front page. Oswald, noticing Ed’s attempt, handed him his glasses as he folded the paper down.

‘Where-?’ Ed croaked.

‘My base. When? About a week ago’, Oswald recited, flicking up a finger to count each question, ‘How? My informant found you lying in the narrows. Why? Good question considering what you pulled at that bank’.

Ed raised an eyebrow at Oswald’s annoyed tone.

‘That was nothing personal and you know it’, Ed said, swallowing hard to try and dispel the thirsty ache in his throat ‘Especially since you were going to rob us’.

‘It was inconvenient and embarrassing’, Oswald corrected, ‘Still nice to see your sense of sarcasm survived intact’.

‘I suppose you want an apology?’ Ed asked, weighing up whether he should try and sit up or not.

He knew why his stomach hurt: his photographic memory had meticulously recorded every detail of he and Lee’s supposedly fatal interaction but dealing with the effects was another matter entirely. Ed had never been good with physical discomfort.

‘I want you to admit you were wrong’, Oswald said.

‘You literally defied the laws of nature just so you could say ‘I told you so’?’

Oswald shrugged and Ed sighed, ‘Of course you did’.

‘And to show you how Lee would literally rather die than be with you. I know they talk about ‘not if you were the last guy on Earth’ but-‘

‘Where is she?’ Ed interjected.

‘Why do you ask?’ Oswald asked airily, eyes narrowing.

‘Is she alright?’ Ed asked, keeping his tone calm despite the ambivalence he felt at even asking the question.

He wasn’t sure why he cared whether Lee was alright. She had tried to kill him! He had tried to kill her! He had failed so he should want her dead now. But…because she had outwitted him and caught him by surprise technically she was the victor and was therefore untouchable. She beat him fair and square. No. That wasn’t right. She had cheated! Used his weaker half’s feelings for her and manipulated him but he had known that and let her do it and-  
Ed gasped as pain lanced through his head.  
Too many questions to deal with right now.

‘Jim Gordon will look after her I’m sure’, Oswald said unconcernedly, ‘She’s not our problem any more’.

Oswald’s use of the word ‘our’ caught Ed’s attention.

‘You saved both of us’, he said.

‘Technically Hugo Strange did’, Oswald said with a resentful grimace, ‘And not for cheap’.

‘Why both of us?’ Ed asked.

‘Delivering Lee to Blueboys’ HQ unharmed bought me seven sets of swat team gear and an armoured van. She was literally more valuable to me alive’.

‘Blueboys?’

‘Quaint isn’t it?’ Oswald said patronisingly, ‘They’re the group formally known as the GCPD. Do you disapprove?’

‘Of the GCPD’s new nom de guerre?’

‘No’, Oswald said pointedly, slightly irritated by Ed playing dumb, ‘Of bringing the good Doctor back?’

Ed considered for a moment. He pretended to pick at the patterned bedspread but was actually analysing Oswald’s expression out of the corner of his eye.

Oswald watched Ed carefully. As part of their agreement he had promised Jim he would keep Ed away from Lee. The arrangement suited Oswald just fine. The woman’s relationship with Ed had been a disaster from start to finish. It had always baffled Oswald how Ed could be either a moth or a flame from one minute to the next. He was his own worst enemy but Oswald’s best friend. So, if Ed decided to go chasing after Lee in the name of revenge, Oswald was honour bound to stop him. To save Ed from himself. Oswald just didn’t fancy saving him from a plethora of GCPD guns led by Lee’s ex-boyfriend with a grudge.

‘She got me fair and square’, Ed finally said, ‘It would be petty and childish to hold it against her. Even if she used me, got what she wanted then stabbed me in the stomach’.

Oswald laughed. Ed was about to retort when he began to cough, his fatigue and dehydration final catching up with him.

‘Unprovoked?’ Oswald pressed, head titled, ‘Come on, I know you Ed. Lee probably just beat you to the punch. Or nearest weapon in this case’.

He offered Ed a glass of water. Ed drank carefully but deeply, savouring the refreshing cold liquid gliding down his throat.

‘Feeling more clear headed now?’ Oswald asked, taking the half empty glass away when Ed had finished.

‘Actually, yes’, Ed said with some surprise.

He hadn’t felt such clarity since before Oswald had cryogenically frozen him: as a minor test he answered three riddles in his head, recited Pi to seven places and named each bone in the upper half of the human body from the top of his skull down.

‘I took the liberty of asking Hugo Strange to ‘upgrade your hard drive’ so to speak’, Oswald explained, ‘It’s my fault you’ve been making such bad choices since you were defrosted’.

‘You mean…I’m truly ‘me’ again?’ Ed asked, hardly daring to hope.

‘Cleared out the last of the cobwebs’, Oswald affirmed, ‘You’re operating at maximum efficiency again’.

Ed’s smile soured as he remembered the previous results of Strange’s ‘upgrades’. The negatives usually far outweighed the benefits.

‘Is that the only…improvement I should expect?’ he asked, suddenly wishing for a reflective surface.

‘It’s the only one you needed’, Oswald said, patting the bed placatingly as he picked up on Ed’s misgivings, ‘Removing that ‘lovesickness’ out of your system was child’s play for him. A little attempted murder really helps you get over a nasty breakup doesn’t it?’

‘You should know’, Ed said sardonically.

Oswald’s brow furrowed at the jab and he folded his arms.

‘Funny how you didn’t seem to have any problem moving on from the previous love of your life when Lee came along’.

‘And you seem to be having the opposite problem’.

Oswald sputtered as he searched for a suitably witty rebuttal but halted when Ed held up a hand.

‘Even after everything you still saved me’, Ed said seriously, ‘Thank you’.

Oswald’s cheeks coloured and he waved a hand dismissively.

‘You would have done the same for me. Oh! That reminds me..’

Ed looked at Oswald quizzically as Oswald cleared his throat.

‘To be honest’, Oswald began in the same conversational tone as a stand-up comedian, ‘I expected Lee to stab you in the back but give the woman credit, at least she had the integrity to betray you to your face. I would say I dodged a bullet in the past but you definitely didn’t dodge that kn-‘

‘This is why you woke me up isn’t it?’ Ed groaned, ‘Because I can’t fight back. How many of these do you have?’

‘Oh, I’ve been saving them up’, Oswald grinned, ‘Ever since I heard about your little comedy act about me in the Narrows. Jerome was right about one thing: the secret truly is ‘timing’’.

Ed tried to sit up but fell back instantly with a cry of pain. He inhaled deeply and slowly until the stabbing sensations in his stomach faded, He could feel a bandage around his middle rub against the soft fabric of his pyjamas.

‘You should have left the knife in’, Oswald observed, ‘Strange could have fixed you in half the time if he hadn’t needed to repair the internal organs’.

‘Thanks for the tip’, Ed grunted, sitting up slower this time with more success.

‘I’m no forensic expert but I know a bit about stabbing people’, Oswald said, ‘If you were aspiring to be Romeo and Juliet, I’m pretty sure they didn’t kill each other’.

‘Speaking of killing each other’, Ed said, changing the subject before Oswald could resume his routine, ‘You seem chipper for someone trapped in a lawless hellhole. Judging from the architecture, we seem to be squatting in City Hall which leads me to assume Jerome’s plan came to fruition’.

‘Correct’, Oswald said appraisingly as he looked up into the high ceiling of the domed room they were in, ‘Except for one thing. I’m not trapped. It’s my natural environment’.

‘Quite the nest you’ve chosen’.

‘Cosy isn’t it? I’m already having a room prepared for you don’t worry’.

‘Where have you been sleeping if I’ve been in your bed?’

‘The couch’, Oswald said indicating a plush looking sofa in the corner of the room with a pillow sitting neatly atop a folded blanket, ‘I figured it was my turn’.

Ed realised Oswald was referring to when he had been staying in Ed’s apartment and felt a pang of nostalgic melancholy. Things had been simpler then. Their friendship had evolved so easily. So naturally that Ed had often wondered if Penguin had been manipulating him somehow. Abusing Ed’s kindness and willingness to help him only to bite him later like the old story of the farmer and the viper. Ed gave a humourless laugh. For a self-professed genius he seemed to be making a habit of being wrong.  
Had Oswald been watching over him while he recovered?

‘That was a long time ago’, Ed said, marvelling at how the tables had turned.

‘It feels longer than it was’, Oswald said, blinking hard, ‘It’ll be nice to have some intelligent conversation for a change. Just like old times’.

‘That reminds me: where’s Butch?’

‘Dead’, Oswald said dispassionately, ‘And I’ve made sure it’ll stick this time’.

Ed saw the relish in Oswald’s eyes despite his neutral expression and put two and two together.

‘And you left Tabitha alive’, Ed said, smiling reminiscently, ‘To live with it. Just like you said you would one day’.

‘You remembered’, Oswald grinned.

‘I’m sorry I missed it’, Ed said.

‘There’ll be other chances’, Oswald said gratifyingly as he rose from his chair, ‘Now, shall we get down to business? Unless of course, you have somewhere else to be’.

Ed didn’t have to think about his answer.

‘There’s nowhere I’d rather be, Roomie’, he said.

Oswald walked around the bed and pulled on a tassel that Ed had presumed was simply decoration.

‘Good answer’, Oswald said, as a curtain fell away and light rushed into the room.

Ed’s bed was beside a large window. Looking through it, Ed could see into the entrance hall of the building. People, all bearing hooded jackets with a penguin in profile on the back, were moving boxes around as a steady stream of them were brought in through City Hall’s large doors. Some men had clipboards, making notes and directing other people carrying various boxes and bags. Ed could see labelled boxes of cigars, weapons crates and alcohol sitting beside boxes of more mundane utilities like baby formula, first aid kits, toilet paper.  
It was as if one half of City Hall was a market for mercenaries and the other a supermarket for the members of the public.

And Oswald could charge whatever he wanted for all of it. Any of it he chose to offer for sale that is.

Ed looked up at Oswald only to see Oswald was offering him something. A black bowler hat decorated with black sequins.

‘Because I’m going to need a master of ceremonies’, Oswald said, ‘For my auctions’.

Ed accepted the hat and tried it on. He sighed as it fit perfectly, feeling more and more like himself with every moment. Every moment with Oswald.

‘Sold’, Ed pronounced, tipping the hat to his partner in crime.


	58. Summer of Gotham Event: Future AU

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Martin, now a teenager, wants to join the family business but Oswald is reluctant.  
> Summer of Gotham Week 3 : Future AU

Ed shook his head as he heard the door to his hideout slam and a distinctive, halting tread descending the stairs. He noted the barely audible grumbling emanating from the stairwell as well as its correlation to the speed and weight of the footsteps.  
Oswald was not in a good mood.

Ed turned to Martin.  
The teenager was still sitting on the stool. He had been experimentally touching his bandaged wrist, wincing as he tried to rotate it but his eyes had grown wide as he also identified the interloper into Ed’s lair. He hastily jammed the popsicle he had been enjoying into his mouth, breathing heavily to battle the brain freeze as he chewed and swallowed frantically. Once he had overcome the discomfort, he reached for the writing pad resting on the desk beside him and wrote a single word. He held it up for Ed to see, even though his expression told Ed he already knew the answer.  
It flummoxed Ed how like a child Martin could still appear with those large, innocent looking eyes and boyish curls despite the fact he had grown nearly as tall as he was.

_Busted?_

Ed took the pen from Martin and underlined the word in answer just as Oswald walked in.

‘Hello Oswald’, Ed said brightly, holding up his own popsicle in greeting, ‘Would you like a pop-?’

‘What happened?‘ Oswald demanded, glaring at Martin’s wrist.

As Oswald advanced on them, Martin scribbled quickly and leapt in front of Ed, showing Oswald the pad.

_It’s not his fault!_

Oswald reached down and with care despite his obvious fury, took hold of Martin’s wrist. His pale eyes flashed savagely, reflecting the various computer screens and neon lights of Ed’s hideout.

‘What. Happened?’ Oswald asked in a dangerously neutral tone.

‘It’s just a small sprain’, Ed said placatingly, ‘Nothing to worry about’.

Martin eagerly flashed a thumbs up with his good hand but was dismayed to see he and Ed’s overtly chipper pantomiming was doing little to dampen his adopted father’s short fuse.

‘Who did it?’ Oswald asked.

Martin, visibly deflated, drew a symbol and showed Oswald the page. A black bat outline on a white page. He was about to explain further but Oswald tapped his cane loudly on the floor. A signal that he wasn’t interested in more details.

‘Oswald, just breathe’, Ed said, ‘You’re a penguin, not a Mother Hen’.

‘How could you do this to me?’ Oswald demanded, fingers clenching on the cane’s handle as if it was some poor unfortunate’s throat, ‘You promised this wouldn’t happen again! That if he came to you looking for more ‘lessons’ you’d call me immediately!’

_How did you find me?_

‘Do you think a leaf falls in this city without me knowing about it?!’ Oswald said, obviously insulted, ‘You are officially on thin ice young man’.

‘Penguins know all about that right?’ Ed joked, attempting to draw Oswald’s attention.

It worked and Ed instantly felt like a rodeo clown facing down a particularly nasty bull as Oswald’s baleful gaze was redirected at him.

‘And as for you, _Riddler_ ’, Oswald spat Ed’s alias as if it were a curse, ‘When I tell him ‘no’, it means ‘no’. Not ‘go ask Ed if it’s alright’! It’s the oldest, basest loophole abuse in the book!‘

‘He wanted to learn’, Ed said shrugging, deliberately keeping his tone and body language subdued so as not to enrage Oswald further, ‘He needs to learn how this city works if you want him running it one day’.

‘He needs to learn how to be a better liar!’ Oswald snapped before rounding on Martin again, ‘Did you honestly think the school wouldn’t call me to see how you were feeling?! Truant for three days!’

‘You said you were on vacation’, Ed said to Martin disapprovingly, obviously against the idea of Martin skipping school.

Martin rolled his eyes and groaned, annoyed at being outnumbered and held up the pad.

_I’m not missing anything important!_

‘How do you know?’ Oswald asked but Martin had already finished the answer.

He held up the pad with a flourish and the slightest hint of a smug smile.

_Because I stole the teacher’s lesson plan and did all this week’s work in advance._

‘Well, in that case-‘ Ed began, softening but Oswald held up an arresting finger.

‘Don’t you dare act like that changes anything!’ Oswald growled, irked that Ed had reverted to an opponent instead of a potential ally.

_Dad! I’m fine. It doesn’t even hurt!_

‘We are going home and you are going back to school. End of discussion’.

_You just don’t think I can handle it! I’m not a kid! I’m not helpless!_

Martin was in the middle of another furious sentence when Oswald snatched the page from the pad. Martin’s lip tightened as Oswald scrunched it into a ball inside his whitened knuckles.

‘I said: ‘End of discussion’’, Oswald finished.

Martin threw down his pad and ran for the stairway. Oswald made to go after Martin but Ed laid a hand on his shoulder. Oswald shook Ed off and spun on his heel, coat tails whipping like a scorpion’s barb.

‘Don’t worry, he’s tripped the security system. He’s not going anywhere’, Ed said and pointed his half-eaten popsicle at Oswald, ‘And neither are you until we’ve had a chat’.

‘You’d better make it good Ed because right now I’m really tempted to stick that popsicle up your-‘

Ed thrust his arm forward and jammed the popsicle into Oswald’s open mouth. Oswald, caught off guard, pulled the stick free and was forced to chew the freezing cold lime flavoured chunks as the disintegrated in his mouth. Just as Ed had planned.

‘I brought Martin along on recon for a museum job I have planned and the Bat came by on patrol’, Ed enunciated carefully, ensuring Oswald was listening, ‘He was ten minutes earlier than expected. I saw him coming, grabbed Martin and we ran. Martin caught his wrist on a fire escape and twisted it. We came back here, I patched him up, unlocked the door because I knew you’d come here looking for him, popsicles. The End’.

Ed took the popsicle stick from Oswald and flicked it into a nearby wastebasket as a visual full stop just as Oswald finally managed to swallow.

Ed’s succinct explanation as well as the fact that the violent vigilante did not seem directly responsible for Martin’s injury seemed to have mollified Oswald somewhat. In that he seemed content to just scowl at Ed instead of actively trying to retaliate against the citrus flavoured assault he had just endured.

‘You’re sure he didn’t see you?’ Oswald pressed.

‘I think we would both be a lot worse for wear if he had, don’t you? By the way, is it true?’

‘Is what true?’

‘That you’re working with the Bat’.

Oswald adjusted his shoulders and sniffed dismissively: confirmation to Ed, who was intimately familiar with Oswald’s body language, that it was indeed true.

‘I’m not working with him’, Oswald said pointedly, ‘I’m just not getting in his way’.

‘Martin disagrees’.

‘Seems he’s not the only one’, Oswald said sourly, eyeing Ed.

‘What happens if he does come for Martin one day?’ Ed asked, allowing a trace of disapproval to creep into his voice, ‘Will you get in his way then?’

‘That won’t happen if Martin does as I say!’ Oswald snapped, ‘Why do you keep undermining my authority?!’

‘Because I’m trying to keep him safe too! When I found Martin had snuck in here again, I thought it was better for me to keep an eye on him, so, I told him he could come with me to check out the museum. The more you try and tell him not to do something, the more he’ll want to do it. You can’t keep him on a leash so why not make sure he’s safe and knows what he’s doing? Ignorance isn’t safety!’

Ed could see Oswald could see his point of view. Ed could also see that Oswald hated that he could see Ed’s point of view.

‘I blame you for this’, Oswald groused.

‘For what? The well documented hormonal tyranny and rebellion of the adolescent?’

‘You’re the only other person that drives me this crazy!’ Oswald said, slamming a hand onto the desk.

A crinkling noise made him realise he was still holding the piece of paper he had torn from Martin’s pad. He opened it and read:-

_Why are you trying to hide who you are_

Oswald sighed heavily and folded the paper carefully in half, ruefully smoothing out the wrinkles.

‘You told me you weren’t much older than Martin when you started your ‘career’’, Ed said.

‘That was different’.

‘How?’ Ed asked, baffled.

‘Because back then there weren’t lunatics running around in costumes!’

Ed gestured to his vibrant green suit with an offended expression and Oswald made a disgruntled noise.

‘You know what I mean!’

‘Is Martin right?’ Ed asked, sitting beside Oswald, ‘Do you really think he can’t handle it?’

‘He shouldn’t have to handle anything!’ Oswald said exasperated, ‘I want him to be better than I was, Ed. To live a proper life without looking over his shoulder all the time. Maybe even find someone special someday’.

‘Like you did?’ Ed asked, placing a hand over Oswald’s.

He began to trace swirling patterns on the back of his lover’s hand: a soothing movement he knew Oswald enjoyed.

‘Preferably without the bumps in the road we’ve had’, Oswald said, one raised eyebrow a clear indicator that he knew what Ed was doing, ‘But, yes’.

‘Oswald, you and I only met because you were part of Gotham’s underworld and I wanted to join it. Just like Martin does. Have you considered that maybe Martin could thrive there? Like I have?’

‘That was different’.

‘There’s that phrase again’, Ed said teasingly, ‘It was different only because I was less prepared than Martin was. Until you helped me become who I was meant to be. You can help him too’.

‘I know. I just don’t want him to get hurt’.

Oswald removed his hand from Ed’s touch distractedly as it strayed to his leg. Ed felt a pang of sympathy: Oswald was correct in that his error in naïve over reaching, had cost him dearly.

‘Just one mistake and…and I could lose him’, Oswald continued, ‘I want him to be worried about finding a date for prom or not getting picked for the football team, not practicing how to escape from handcuffs or deliberately picking fights with bigger boys to toughen himself up!’

‘All fledglings have to learn to fly sometime’, Ed said philosophically, ‘They’re the ones who know when it’s time to jump out of the nest’.

‘Penguin fledglings don’t fly’, Oswald deadpanned earning a laugh from Ed.

‘Maybe not Mr Pedantic’, he conceded, ‘But they do have to navigate and feel at home in very dark waters. As a smart man once said: It’s better to walk with a friend in the darkness than-‘

‘-walk alone in the light’, Oswald finished, shoulders finally slumping in defeat.

Ed rubbed Oswald’s back consolingly and kissed his cheek. Oswald leant his head into Ed’s shoulder and sighed wistfully.

‘I just didn’t expect him to be diving so deep so soon’, he said.

Martin glowered from his seat on one of the stairs as they both approached and banged a palm on the glass partition irritably. On his way up the stairs, motion detectors had kicked in and sealed him between two glass partitions that had slid from the walls. Even if he had been able to talk, shouting wouldn’t have helped. The glass walls dampened sound. It was why Ed had decided to talk to Oswald when Martin was incapable of overhearing.

‘Stumped ya this time huh?’ Ed joked, clicking a hidden panel on the wall.

The partitions slid back into the walls and Martin, newly liberated, stood up, crossing his arms carefully but resentfully. Oswald approached and held something out to Martin with a sincere apology.  
Martin saw it was an origami penguin, folded from the words Oswald had taken from him. He looked at his father questioningly and saw he was smiling contritely.

‘You don’t go off on your own, always be back in time for dinner and absolutely no costumes’, Oswald pronounced, ‘Agreed?’

Martin looked at Ed with sheer disbelief who flashed him a thumbs up. Martin smiled from ear to ear and hugged Oswald close, the paper penguin held tightly yet cautiously in his hand.


	59. A Walk on the Dark Side (STAR WARS AU!)

Ed didn’t know what was worse: the acidic rain pounding down or the cave he was currently using for shelter.  
He didn’t know which planet he had landed on following his hasty flight from his temple. He just knew it was out of the way and uninhabited from the archives. Watching the neon green rain eat away at the piece of material he had cut from his robe and thrown outside experimentally, he knew why. Thankfully, his ship, parked a few yards away, was unaffected by the blistering downpour, its coating insulated.   
Ed had no choice but to wait it out and pray the rain cycles on the planet took minutes rather than days.  
Despite the humidity of the jungle he had found himself in, his breath misted in front of him. His back was chilled from a draft that seemed to emanate from the darkness of the cave even as his brow was speckled with sweat.  
Ed began to venture into the cave, resigned to the wait and trying to keep his brain occupied. He ignited his lightsaber, the green glow illuminating the damp stone walls. He cast his senses into the cave and shivered as he was suddenly assaulted by an oppressive presence, akin to a fierce predator glaring back at him. Ed swallowed down his fear and rising nausea, repeating a mantra to keep his mind focused and senses keen.  
As he approached a large rock, he was startled by the sudden appearance of two yellow eyes in the dark.  
A pale hand lashed out from inside a black robe, fingers outstretched. Ed recognised the move instantly and on reflex, grabbed at the darkness. His fingers clenched around a metallic object. The smooth surface and diameter in his hand identified it as a lightsaber. He could feel the figure still trying to summon it but the pull was weakening and gradually died away altogether.  
Keeping a tight grip on his own lightsaber as well as the newly acquired one, Ed approached the figure. As he brought his lightsaber closer, the figure’s yellow eyes faded into a pale blue as it glared at him.  
It tossed its head, causing the hood to fall off and revealing a mess of spike black hair and a pallid face set into a snarl.

‘You’re a Sith’, Ed breathed, astounded to have encountered the mortal enemy of the Jedi in such an unlikely place.

The Sith gave a wordless growl and tried to rise with no success. That was when Ed noticed the foot peeking out from beneath the boulder and the Sith’s lack of strength clicked into place. Even at full power, Sith supposedly found it difficult to move objects the way Jedi did: they were too focused on the material weight of an object. The disarmed, injured Sith had no chance of freeing himself. He was still a danger, just not an immediate one.   
When Ed had landed, there had been a seismic tremor, yet another of the planet’s delights. Ed had thought he had heard a yell from nearby as he had disembarked and realised it must have been the Sith, finding himself trapped.  
The Sith obviously took Ed’s relaxing stance as an insult.

‘So, what now Jedi?’ the Sith spat, ‘You expect me to beg for my life?’

His eyes widened as Ed raised a hand and he flinched, expecting Ed to collapse the roof on top of him. Instead he felt the boulder rise. Crying out in pain as his leg was freed, the Sith watched with grudging respect as Ed effortlessly compressed the boulder down to the size of a pebble before casting it aside. 

‘Why would I help you if I was going to kill you?’ Ed asked, satisfied that the demonstration had achieved its purpose as a combined threat and gesture of goodwill.

‘That part comes later’, the Sith grumbled, tending to his bruised and bloodied leg, ‘After the torture no doubt’.

‘Jedi don’t torture’, Ed said, offended, tossing the Sith a pack of bacta gel.

‘I always forget how naïve padawans can be’, the Sith sneered, ignoring the medicine packet.

‘Believe it or not, I have no ill intentions towards you whatsoever’, Ed said, taking a seat on the cave floor a few steps away.  
Out of habit he began to take the Jedi meditation stance but decided against it. It seemed perverse considering what he had done.

‘Then what are your intentions?’ the Sith challenged, a raised eyebrow an obvious sign he had noticed Ed’s indecision.

‘Do you still believe in the Force?’

‘Of course I do!’ the Sith snapped, ‘Just the sort of ignorance I’d expect from a Jedi’.

‘I hope to remedy that’, Ed sighed then too a deep breath before continuing, ‘I-I need your guidance’.

The Sith blinked. 

‘What?’

‘I’ve been reading some of the forbidden texts in the archives’, Ed sad hastily before the Sith could laugh or try to attack him out of insulted pride, ‘They say the Sith hold the power of life and death. Is that true?’

The Sith did not answer at first, instead reaching for the bacta gel. He squeezed out a generous portion and applied it to his injured leg.

‘Maybe’, he said evasively, brow furrowing as he felt the chilling poultice begin to do its work.

‘Please!’ Ed cried, seizing the Sith’s arm, ‘I need to know!’

The bacta fell from the Sith’s hand and Ed handed it back apologetically. He tried to ignore how the Sith’s eyes shone in the gloom, like a bird of prey regarding a trapped rodent.

‘You’re grieving’, the Sith said with a trace of relish.

‘Yes’, Ed admitted.  
There was no point in hiding it and he supposed it was funny in a sick sort of way. Jedi were supposed to suppress emotion, grieve with dignity and yet here he was, trying to do a deal with a devil.

‘Your lover?’ the Sith pressed.

‘No. No she wasn’t’, Ed said sadly, ‘But she was important to me and she didn’t deserve to die like she did’.

‘Sorry to disappoint you but nobody can resurrect the dead’, the Sith said, throwing away the empty bacta packet, ‘I’ve tried’.

‘No! There has to be a way!’ Ed insisted, leaping to his feet and pacing, ‘I’ve read about Jedi ascending and Sith extending their lifespans! You’re lying!’

‘You know I’m not’, the Sith said, ‘Surely you must have known the answer already. So, why is there so much conflict in you?’

‘Because I can’t be a Jedi anymore’, Ed said with a bitter laugh.

‘Why not?’

‘Because I killed Kristen’, Ed whispered.  
Despite his low voice, the cave magnified his confession. It bounced off every crevice causing a thousand voices to chorus his deed. It made Ed’s hairs stand on end and stomach roil.

‘What happened?’

Ed didn’t want to answer but the words came pouring out in a flood.

‘I was researching the force choke technique after hours in the library and she walked in. She started screaming when she saw what I was doing and that she was going to tell everyone I was a traitor and an animal. I panicked, I threw out my hand and-and I squeezed, begging her not to scream! I just wanted her to be quiet and when she was, I released and she….fell. I ran to her and…It was an accident! I didn’t know I was that strong! I’ve never felt that strong!’

Ed exhausted by the outpouring fell to his hands and knees, breathing hard. The walls felt as if they were closing in.

‘And now you just feel lost’, the Sith observed.

‘Yes’, Ed said weakly.

‘Because deep down you enjoyed it’.

‘No!’ Ed snapped, shaking his head, ‘That’s not true!’

‘Search your feelings’, the Sith pressed, ‘You know I’m right’.

Ed felt the delicate touch of the Sith rubbing his back and groaned at how good it felt. How comforting. It seemed to banish the sweat soaking through his robe, filling him with welcome warmth. Again he felt that coaxing pull, the liberation of confession drawing his dark impulses out like poison from a wound.

‘It wasn’t killing Kristen that felt good. It was using it on Dougherty earlier that day. It was so easy. So right to see him afraid for a change. To make him hurt, just like he made Kristen hurt’.

‘You killed two Jedi’, the Sith said, impressed, ‘And you got away with it?’

Ed nodded once.

‘Is that the only thing that brought you here? A place to hide?’

‘I don’t know. I just ran. For the first time in my life, I don’t know what to do. I need a new path’.

He fixed eyes with the Sith and a silent understanding passed between them.

‘You’re asking me to be your guide’, the Sith said, withdrawing his hand.

‘Why else would you be here?’ Ed asked.

He took hold of the Sith’s retreating hand with both of his own and bowed his forehead.

‘Even if I can’t bring Kristen back, I need to know how to control this new strength. I need a Master. I need you’.

‘You’ve already taken your first steps’, the Sith said, savouring the pleading tone in Ed’s voice as well as the fact Ed had returned his lightsaber to him.

He unsheathed his blade and held it high. Ed looked at the ceiling of the cave and the walls and realised they were inscribed with runes and glyphs. He couldn’t read them but he could sense their intent. They were old, powerful, dark and angry. The cave was no cave at all. It was a Sith temple.

‘Did you pull me here?’

‘The Jedi like people to believe the Dark side ‘pulls’. That it drags you down and damns you for your own impulses, corrupts the pure and ruins heroes. In truth, the Dark side merely whispers. To answer or not is the listener’s choice. Only the weak need fear their own shadows. You must be truly exceptional. Not everyone can hear it’.

‘Nobody wants to listen to those that do’, Ed said resentfully, remembering all of the mockery he had endured from the other apprentices. It made sense now: he had never been like them. He had just been pretending so he wouldn’t be alone.

‘No _Jedi_ wants to listen’, the Sith corrected, ‘I promise, I will always listen. What’s your name?’

‘Edward Nygma. Or Ed, if you like. Yours?’

‘Oswald’.

‘I was expecting ‘Darth’ something’.

‘Rather melodramatic don’t you think?’

‘What now?’

‘There is an old Sith proverb, Ed: ‘It is better to walk with a friend in the darkness than walk alone in the light’ and with my leg the way it is, I can use all the help I can get walking’.

‘And in exchange, you’ll help me?’

‘To help yourself, yes’, Oswald said, accepting Ed’s hand.

‘Aren’t Sith apprentices expected to try to kill their masters?’ Ed asked half-jokingly as he supported Oswald’s shoulder.

‘If the time comes, you are welcome to try’, Oswald said with a curl of the lip.

Ed hesitated as Oswald began to lead them down the tunnel but Oswald smiled indulgently.

‘Not so terrifying now is it?’ he asked.

Ed looked around the cave. The runes were still there but they felt warm and vibrated rhythmically. Like a living heartbeat. It reminded him of passion and emotion: the pulse of the Dark side. The cave also seemed brighter, more akin to a dwelling than a forbidding ruin. 

‘No’.

‘How does it feel?’ Oswald asked, heart racing as he saw Ed’s eyes began to glow yellow.

‘It feels like home’.


	60. Steven Universe AU

Another off-colour?  
Peridot peered around the corner, eyes straining as he tried to discern the source of the glimmering illuminating the dim environs and the laboured breathing he had heard echoing down the tunnel.   
He was surprised to see a Pearl slumped against the wall, head bowed.  
Curiosity at finding such a valuable Gem in the Underworld overcame caution and Peridot rounded the corner.  
The Pearl rallied immediately, leaping to his feet even as he cried out in pain. He reached for the gem set into his chest and extracted a sword before leaping forward, eyes wide.   
Peridot sidestepped easily and the Pearl slammed into the opposite wall, dropping the weapon from the impact. He collapsed again and dragged himself into a sitting position, back against the wall, glaring defiantly up at Peridot.  
Assessing the Pearl was no longer a threat, Peridot illuminated the gem in his forehead, bathing the tunnel in a ghostly, green glow.  
Peridot examined the strange sword with the benefit of light and was surprised to see it was mostly made of cloth. As he raised it, the material momentarily unfurled into a large umbrella before dissipating. Peridot returned his attention to his captive, inwardly chiding himself for his foolishness.   
Pearls carried shopping, not weapons.  
Peridot knelt down, dimming his light so as not to blind the Pearl and blinked in surprise. He recognised the Pearl, who was in turn, studying Peridot intently.

‘I know you, don’t I?’ the Pearl asked, pale eyes narrowing as he searched his memory.

‘Peridot, Facet-2F5L Cut-5ED’, Peridot said, giving the Diamond salute out of habit, ‘We spoke once when you came to get some roving eyes designed for your Hessonite?’

Pearl nodded.  
Now he remembered. 

Hessonite had sent him to check on the status of a new security system for her nightclub. While he had been waiting to speak to the Agate in charge, he had been accosted by a Peridot. This very Peridot. Pearl didn’t remember much of what they had discussed: he seemed to recall some kind of fact about a strange creature on another planet that supposedly made pearls using its own spit but not much else. He did recall, however, that the Peridot had been sharply reprimanded for diverging from his work schedule to ‘chit chat’. He seemed to recall feeling bad about it even though he had not begun the conversation.   
Maybe because he rarely had real conversations.

‘Where is your Hessonite by the way?’ Peridot continued, heedless of Pearl’s reflecting, ‘That looks painful’.

Pearl held a hand self consciously over the gem on his chest, trying to conceal the crack in its milky surface. He swallowed hard. It was too much of a coincidence. Was this Peridot part of a search party? Hessonite was too proud to let his slight go unpunished! He shouldn’t have stopped to rest!

‘You’re absolutely right’, Pearl said with forced cheeriness, ‘My mistress will be so worried about me so I’ll just-‘

‘Hold still’, Peridot said, placing a gentle yet firm hand on Pearl’s shoulder.

Pearl tried to shake him off but it was no good. Peridots were tougher than they looked.

‘I don’t have much choice do I?’ Pearl said, resigned to his fate and expecting to see the telltale red lights of a roving eye any minute.

The Peridot would turn him in. They were sticklers for the rules, even amongst Homeworld’s vast bureaucracy. Everything had to be in place and Pearls belonged at someone else’s heel.  
Pearl was so busy waiting for the blow to come that it took him a few seconds to realise it wasn’t coming.   
Peridot’s fingertip was glowing a bright green which then shot out in a beam. Pearl flinched as it impacted his gem, expecting pain but there was only a warm, spreading relief. Looking down, Pearl saw the jagged crack in the surface begin to glow bright green, the edges moving closer together and he marvelled at how it was akin to welding machine parts together.

‘You’re tall for a Peridot’, Pearl observed.

‘And you’re opinionated for a Pearl’, Peridot said with a smile, eyes never leaving his work, ‘What’s your cut?’

‘Why do you ask?’ Pearl asked, still unwilling to let his guard down completely.

‘Just making conversation’, Peridot shrugged, ‘I don’t want to have to just call you ‘Pearl’. Bit impersonal’.

‘It’s OZ’.

‘That’s a short designation’.

‘The water in my batch was contaminated’, Pearl said in a subdued tone, ‘I’m the only one who emerged’.

Peridot blew on Pearl’s gem, the cold air making Pearl shiver and the sensation of Peridot’s fingers rubbing the gem to make it shine strangely pleasant.

‘How’s that feel, Oz?’ Peridot asked, excited to defy the normal convention of naming Gems only by their official designation.

‘Better, Ed’, the newly named Oz responded.

‘Ed’, Ed, formerly Facet-2F5L Cut-5ED, said, rolling the word around his mouth, ‘I like the sound of that’.

‘I didn’t know Peridots could heal gems’, Oz said, looking down at his like new gem.

‘We’re good at putting things back together. Don’t get used to it though’, Ed said contemplatively, ‘We’re, ah, apparently not ‘resource effective’’.

He shook his head and visibly brightened.

‘Nowhere near as rare as a Black Pearl though’, he continued, ‘Which begs the question: what are you doing all the way down here?’

‘I could ask the same thing about you’, Oz said, ‘Peridots aren’t allowed to leave their labs without authorisation and there’s no tech down here that needs servicing’.

‘I’m conducting an experiment’, Ed said, the well-practiced alibi coming easily to him. It had helped to rationalise it as true in its own way.

‘What kind of-‘

‘What did you do?’ Ed interjected.

Oz blinked and rotated his shoulders, eyes dropping to the floor.

‘Wh-what makes you think I did anything?’

‘Hessonites aren’t known for being forgiving’, Ed said, indicating Oz’s now healed gemstone.  
Oz laughed bitterly and then confessed on impulse.

‘I attacked her’, he whispered then repeated it louder, fingers curling into fists.

‘Can Pearls even do that?!’ Ed asked, shocked.

‘She didn’t seem to think so’, Oz said with a twisted smile, ‘She also didn’t seem to realise my umbrella had a spike’.

He gave an almost hysterical laugh and clamped his hand over his mouth to stifle it.

‘How did you get away?’ Ed asked.

‘I jumped out of the window’, Oz said, eyes widening as if even he couldn’t believe it, ‘My umbrella helped me float down here’.

‘Why did you attack her?’

‘Because I was sick of taking her orders. And I want…more’.

‘More than what?’

‘This!’ Oz snapped suddenly, throwing a clod of dirt against the wall, ‘Don’t you ever get sick of how they all look down on us?! At least Peridots are useful! You actually get to do things instead of just stand around like a-like a thing! You’re actually needed!’

Noticing Ed’s stunned expression, Oswald gave a final growl then inhaled deeply, trying to calm down.

‘Sorry’, he said quietly, ‘Guess that’s been building up for a while’.

‘I’ve never heard a Pearl talk like that before’, Ed said, eyes shining, enrapt.

‘Well we’re not supposed to speak unless we’re spoken to’. 

‘What’s your plan then?’

‘I have no idea’, Oz scoffed, shaking his head, ‘I’ve got no one to tell me what to do now’.

‘Me neither’, Ed admitted then added, ‘It’s exciting isn’t it?’

‘Maybe a little’, Oswald conceded, ‘Go on then, shoot, what’s your plan?’

‘Have-have you ever heard of a place called Earth?’

‘Who hasn’t? Why?’

‘Because that’s where I’m going’.

‘From what I hear the place isn’t very technologically advanced so I’m not sure what good you’d be. Besides, I’m sure there are enough big, strong quartzes down there to avenge Pink Diamond’.

‘I’m not going there for Pink Diamond. I’m going to join Rose Quartz’s rebellion. Wow it feels good to say that out loud!’

‘You don’t seem the ‘rebellious’ type’, Oz said, disbelief in his furrowed brow.

‘Neither do you’, Ed countered, ‘And yet here we are’.

‘We?’

‘You did say you didn’t have a plan’.

‘Well my new plan is to not get shattered in a civil war!’ Oz cried.

‘So, you’re going to stay here and get shattered anyway?’ Ed said, waving a hand at their desolate subterranean surroundings, ‘It’s only a matter of time before a roving eye finds a couple of off colours like us’.

Oz shook his head again but this time in resignation, not denial.

‘How would we even get off planet?’ he asked.

‘That’s easy: I spend most of my time fixing ships’, Ed affirmed, ‘They just leave Peridots to it so it’ll be easy to commandeer one’.

‘You’ve been thinking about this for a while haven’t you?’ Oz asked, impressed despite his trepidation.

‘Do you believe in fate?’ Ed asked, offering his hand.

‘Gems don’t really have a choice in that’, Oz replied, taking Ed’s hand and rising to his feet, ‘We all have a purpose’.

‘Do you know why I came up and talked to you at the lab?’

‘Why?’

‘Because you stand out. Like me. We’ll never be good enough for them but why should we want to be? You came to the lab alone and talked to that Agate like you were on the same level and I realised there’s no reason we shouldn’t be! All your Hessonite does is sit in her nightclub and my Agate barks orders all day long but we’re the ones actually working! Seeing someone else feel the way I do was…illuminating. You were an inspiration’.

‘That’s very flattering but I don’t see how’, Oz said, blushing, ‘I’m little better than a piece of furniture’.

‘Not to me’, Ed said simply.

‘Yes, well, your plan’s alright for you. What about me?’

‘What do you mean?’

‘I’m a Pearl! They won’t even let me on the ship without my….owner’.

‘I can be your owner. At least for a little while if that’s okay?’

‘A Peridot with a Pearl?’ Oz said sceptically.

‘It might actually lend us some credibility when I requisition a ship’, Ed said, completely calm, ‘It’s a perfect plan’.

‘We’re both crazy for even thinking like this’, Oz said incredulously.

‘No’, Ed said, offering his hand, ‘We’re free’.

Oz took it and they began to walk down the tunnel, leaving the darkness behind


	61. Ed meets ‘Ed’

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Oswald finds Ed hiding in Gotham library when Gotham has been cut off from the outside world and introduces him to a new friend.

‘Good grief’.  
Ed gave a start at Oswald’s quiet assessment.

‘You ever heard of knocking?!’ Ed snapped, grabbing his shirt and hastily putting it on.

Oswald pursed his lips critically as the tattoos blanketing Ed’s back were hidden from view. Judging from the reddened flesh they were relatively new.

‘What’s the good in having them if nobody gets to see them?’ Oswald asked, looking around.

The library was dusty and unused but dry with working lights. Ed had fashioned a nearby large couch into a bed and had evidently been keeping busy judging from the stacks of books on the floor. Oswald scanned them: most seemed to focus on wilderness survival but here and there were philosophical texts and books of faith.

‘What are you looking at?’ Ed asked testily.

‘I don’t know but it’s looking back’, Oswald countered, giving Ed a once over, ‘Tattoos, Ed? Really?’

‘I wanted a change’, Ed shrugged, ‘Besides that’s what people get in prison isn’t it? Tattoos?’

‘Gotham isn’t a prison’, Oswald corrected, ‘It’s an opportunity’.

‘What are you doing here Oswald?’

‘I was in the neighbourhood and heard you might be squatting in here. We haven’t spoken since-‘

‘Since you brought me back to life’, Ed interjected, ‘I’m not squatting. I’m researching’.

‘Researching what?’

‘How to build a generator, brushing up on my first aid, gardening, how to purify water-‘

‘You haven’t seen sunlight in a while have you?’ Oswald asked.

‘I’m busy’.

‘Looked more like you were ogling yourself in front of the mirror when I came in’.

Ed’s cheeks coloured. He had not been ‘ogling’! Maybe ‘admiring’ or ‘appreciating’ but he had only been examining the patterns! Not vainly preening! He considered the clean lines and healing achievements given that he had tattooed himself. He was allowed to have something to be proud of, wasnt he?! Something to like about himself again…

‘How long were you standing there?’ Ed asked.

‘Long enough’, Oswald said easily, ‘Come take a walk with me’.

‘Why?’ Ed asked, eyes narrowing.

‘Because I’m worried you’re deliberately attempting to add vitamin D deficiency to your list of problems’.

Ed rotated his shoulders but upon detecting a distinctive cracking noise, acquiesced.

‘I’ll get my jacket’.

‘None of this research would be necessary if you had stayed with me at City Hall’.

‘I needed some time’, Ed said, pulling on his jacket.

‘To do what?’

‘To adjust from being brought back from the dead maybe?!’ Ed shouted, Oswald’s lackadaisical attitude pricking him.

Oswald didn’t react to Ed’s raised voice, choosing instead to flick through a book about scavenging edible plants.

‘I cant imagine it’s very different from recovering from a near death experience’, he said, ‘And it’s no excuse to hide from the world’.

‘Right’, Ed said, rolling his eyes, ‘I forgot I was talking to the man who can’t be killed. And who’s hiding? Are you here to ask me to come back with you? Or…force me to?’

‘I’d never force you to do anything’, Oswald said, sounding slightly affronted, ‘Come back when you’re ready or don’t. It’s up to you’.

‘Then why are you really here?’

Oswald sighed, exasperated at having to repeat himself.

‘I told you, I was in the neighbourhood’.

‘Doing what?’

‘Taking Ed for a walk’.

‘Beg your pardon?’ Ed asked but then his eyes widened, ‘Oswald!’

He pushed Oswald back and grabbed a nearby golf club he had found in the library office.  
A bulldog had wandered into the library, licking its chops as it waddled towards them. Ed frantically tried to figure out if slobber or foam was pooling on the floor from its panting mouth.

‘What is it?!’ Oswald demanded.

‘It’s probably crawling with disease!’ Ed said, raising the golf club warningly.

Only to have Oswald snatch it from him and throw it away.

‘Ed! He’s my dog’.

Ed gasped as he watched the bulldog obediently retrieve the golf club and (struggling a bit with equilibrium) dropped it at Oswald’s feet. At a gesture from Oswald, it lay down.

‘Since when do you have a dog?’ Ed asked.

‘Since I got bored of talking to myself in that massive office’, Oswald said but Ed wasn’t listening.

‘Wait a minute, you named the dog Ed?’

The dog barked affirmatively.

‘Why did you name the dog Ed?’ Ed asked, mouth tight.

‘I just think it suits him’, Oswald smirked.

‘So that’s it’, Ed said, simultaneously annoyed and deflated, ‘You’re here to make fun of me’.

‘Would I come all this way just for that?’

‘You really want me to answer-‘

Oswald held up a hand, cutting Ed off.

‘I’m here because I miss you Ed’, Oswald said, speaking slowly as if Ed was particularly slow witted, ‘I’m not too proud to admit it. I named the dog Ed because then when I’m thinking out loud it feels like there’s someone with me. Listening’.

Ed crossed his arms, absorbing the information. It didn’t sound like a lie. If it had been a lie, Oswald would have come up with something better. Something less…personal.

‘Before or after he tries to eat your shoes?’ Ed joked.

‘It shows how fond I am of him. You know I’ve actually killed for less’.

They both laughed but were cowed into stopping as it bounced loudly off the walls.

Ed adjusted his glasses and spoke, a slight tremble in his voice even as his thoughts outpaced the halting words from his mouth.  
He hated the empty library at night. The shadows and distant half heard noises. He hated how, when he moved, his body always seemed a barely perceptible fraction behind what it had once been: like a cobweb clinging to his skin. How he felt cold all the time and sometimes caught the faintest whiff of blood and damp he couldn’t account for. The grave seemed to have seeped into his bones, making him feel at odds in his own skin. He couldn’t remember if he had always felt like this or not.

‘I can’t go back with you Oswald’, Ed said, ‘I can’t be…around people right now’.

Oswald nodded.

‘I understand. Take as long as you need. No matter who you are when you’re done, I’ll be waiting. Right now, all I’m asking for is a walk. As friends’.

Ed hesitated to take Oswald’s outstretched, inviting hand. Would Oswald detect the difference in his skin? Would it feel like a dead man’s hand? Pallid, hard, damp and-

Oswald silenced Ed’s doubts by taking his hand. And his encouraging smile made Ed’s heart beat faster than it had when he had felt truly alive.  
The bulldog got to it’s feet and led the way into the daylight as Ed joked:-

‘Does he play dead better than I do?’


	62. Silver Linings

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ed helps Oswald cope with the potential loss of his eye (Season 5)

‘Ed!’

Ed started at the urgency at Oswald’s voice and spun on his heel. Oswald’s hand shook as it held the gun. One green eye was wide with surprise. The other was covered in a bloodied square of gauze.

‘Don’t sneak up on me like that!’ Oswald snapped, ‘I nearly shot you!’

Ed tracked the point of the gun barrel to a point on the wall two steps to where he was standing.

‘No, you didn’t’, Ed said, deciding to table the lecture on safe gun use for later.

He kicked the door closed behind him and walked to Oswald’s camp bed, placing the bottled water he had brought on to a side table and pouring a generous cupful.

Oswald sighed heavily.

‘No’, Oswald conceded, slowly lowering the gun, ‘I didn’t, did I?’

Ed extended a hand. Noticing no reaction from Oswald, he looked at him and inwardly kicked himself. Moving around so Oswald could see him with his good eye, Ed extended his hand again. This time, Oswald obligingly handed him the gun. Ed secured it in a drawer and sat on a camp bed across from Oswald, careful to sit in a position that would accommodate Oswald’s latest disability. 

The room he had selected for Oswald’s recuperation was in the upper levels of the GCPD, far away from noise and activity.   
And other people.   
Oswald hated to show weakness to anyone.

‘Do you mind if I ask a stupid question?’ Ed asked, ‘And please don’t say something sarcastic like ‘that’s never stopped you before’.

That earned him a wry smile from his patient.

‘Proceed’, Oswald replied, ‘As long as it’s not ‘what’s black and white and red all over’? I think we both know the answer to that’.

‘Are you okay?’

Despite the simplicity of the question, Oswald took a few seconds to consider before giving an affected shrug.

‘I’ve been shot before’.

‘Noted’, Ed said, adjusting his collar, ‘But that’s not the same as being okay’.

They sat in silence for a few minutes. Ed watched Oswald carefully. He was blinking and sniffing hard, his eye red rimmed and watery. Charitably, Ed decided it was just eye strain; Oswald compensating for the injury. Not worth drawing attention to.

‘They say I ‘might’ lose it’, Oswald said quietly, ‘The eye’.

‘There’s nothing worse than not knowing’, Ed agreed.

‘I knew you’d understand’, Oswald said.

He waved a hand in front of his bandaged eye before touching the bandage gently. Sniffing again, he raised his head as if in defiance. It was at odds with his deliberately detached tone.

‘I’m ruined’, he said.

‘Half ruined’, Ed corrected, ‘Personally, I’ve always found symmetry overrated. By the way, you dropped these’.

He handed Oswald a pair of black shades. Oswald held them up to the light. One lens displayed a crack like a spider web.

‘Priorities?’ Oswald asked with a rueful laugh.

‘Priorities’, Ed agreed.

Oswald gently placed the shades on the table. Both men looked up at the sound of cheering from downstairs. Ed’s eyes narrowed. Probably Jim Gordon soaking up the glory as usual. While other people crawled through the blood and the filth.

‘They were all looking at me strangely after…it happened’, Oswald said, ‘Like they were actually sorry for me. It made my skin crawl’.

‘They’re just embarrassed they owe you for your help. Again’.

‘Good’, Oswald griped, ‘A sense of normality at last’.

‘Can I get you anything?’ Ed asked, ‘Unfortunately, thanks to this little truce, a replacement eye from a potentially unwilling donor is not an option’.

Oswald laughed again. A genuine laugh this time.

‘Thank you, Ed’, he said.

‘For what?’

‘Not…pitying me’.

Despite being clasped in his lap, Oswald’s hands were shaking again. Ed reached out slowly and placed a hand over Oswald’s. He gave them a slight reassuring squeeze and only let go when he felt the shaking subside.

‘Come on Oswald, we both know you only got shot for dramatic effect’, Ed said.

Oswald outright guffawed at that. Ed joined in, noting the tears falling down Oswald’s cheeks. None came from beneath the bandage. After a few moments, Oswald wiped them away and shrugged. Ed stopped laughing as well, careful to time it to seem natural.

‘Guilty’, Oswald said, ‘You know me too well. Think I’ll try to avoid a repeat performance in future though’.

‘Good idea. Now get some rest’.

‘Who made you a doctor?’

‘I used to be a forensic scientist’, Ed said, pulling back the blanket on Oswald’s bed, ‘Would you prefer I advise you in that capacity?’

‘Point taken’, Oswald said, lying down.   
He was too tired to remove any clothing.

‘Been a while’, Ed commented, fluffing Oswald’s pillow.

‘Since you had to tuck me into bed?’ Oswald asked, watching Ed pull the blanket up to his chin, ‘Or force me to recuperate against my will?’

‘Both. Now, there’s an extra blanket over there if you need it, I’ll be back in a bit to change your dressing, I’ve brought you water-‘

‘All that’s left is a goodnight kiss’.

‘I-well, no’, Ed babbled, taken aback, ‘I-I mean-‘

‘Ed’.

Ed looked at Oswald’s deadpan expression.

‘You’re joking‘, Ed said.

‘I’m joking’, Oswald affirmed with an amused smile.

‘Oh’, Ed said simply, pushing his glasses up.

’I’ll see you later Ed’, Oswald said, still smiling but with a look in his eye almost akin to disappointment.

‘Okay’, Ed said, ‘Just one more question though’.

‘With no pun intended: shoot’.

‘Have you ever thought about a monocle?’

‘A monocle?’

‘It would look very distinguished on you’.

‘Huh’, Oswald said thoughtfully, fingers straying to the bandage again as Ed left the room.


End file.
